I Like It Rough
by sentbyfools
Summary: Okane Ga Nai!AU. Erik's a high-ranking member of Shaw's mafia who, one night, is saved by Charles. When Charles' brother sells Charles to a private auction, Erik buys Charles and won't let him leave until he pays off his debt, whatever that entails.
1. I

**Title: **I Like It Rough

**Author: **sentbyfools

**Pairing: **Erik/ Charles, Alex/Darwin

**Summary: **_WIP_. Erik's a high-ranking member of Shaw's mafia who is one day saved by grad student Charles Xavier, a man that even five years later he can't quite put out of his mind. When Charles' brother Cain sells him to a private auction house to pay off his gambling debts, Erik steps in, and buys him. When he realizes that Charles doesn't remember him, he decides to hold the obscene amount of money over Charles, not allowing him to leave until he "pays off" his debt, whatever that entails.

**Warnings (so far): **dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, allusions to torture/child abuse, bondage

**A/N: **For a prompt on 1stclasskink. Already crossposted to AO3 and LJ, but I haven't updated this account in awhile so I'll post it here as well. Thanks to **legosaurusrex** for the beta.

* * *

><p><strong>I.<strong>

Erik is a bit of bastard. He knows this. He doesn't care.

So, the bloodied and beaten man's shout of "You're a bastard" only serves to make Erik grin wider.

"Yes," Erik says, pressing the man back into the concrete as he struggles to stand. The sound of the man's laboured breathing echoes in the mostly empty warehouse. Erik's foot on the man's chest is more for effect than need; it's not his foot that keeps the man pinned down, but the zipper of the man's jeans, the buckles of his belt, the snaps on his shirt.

"Yes," Erik repeats, savouring the heady rush of bloodlust and anger coursing through him as readily as the copper of the pennies in the man's pocket. It takes all his focus not to bend the metal into the man's flesh. He pulls back from the urge ─ the man's death would be a waste.

Alex clears his throat behind him, and Erik shoots him a glare. Alex just shrugs, and Erik presses his foot more firmly into the man on the ground.

"Yes, I am a bastard, but you still have my money, and I will have it back."

He removes his foot from the man's chest and smoothes down his wrinkled shirt as he says, "You've got until next Monday. That's a week, Marko."

He doesn't voice any threats; he doesn't need to.

"Alex," Erik says, turning to face him.

"Yeah," Alex says, walking over to Erik. He has a skeptical look on his face, but he doesn't voice any of what he's thinking. Alex knows Erik well enough to know when to keep his mouth shut, and Erik lets a small smile cross his face. He's taught Alex well. He has the strangest urge to pat Alex on the head like a dog, but he resists it.

"Take care of this," he says, gesturing vaguely at the man behind him. Alex understands ─ ten minutes later, Erik's Mercedes and a van are parked outside the warehouse, and Darwin and Sean have joined them inside.

Darwin and Alex lift Marko and drag him out of the warehouse and into the waiting van. Sean is talking into his cell, and Erik tunes him out as he goes through his tablet, checking off _Marko, Cain_ on the collections list under _DOA, one week_, and then transfers his account into Alex and Darwin's hands. He's going through his schedule when Sean taps him on the shoulder tentatively. He's not in the best of moods, still a bit high with the urge to _hit_, so he grabs Sean along the collar of his shirt, hauling his closer and growls, "What?"

Sean doesn't quite squeak, but the noise he makes before speaking is unintelligible. "Shaw, it's Shaw. He wants you to meet him for dinner at 5:45."

Erik grimaces, releases Sean roughly, and checks his watch. 2:30. He has about three hours time, but still the news is unexpected.

"What the fuck do I pay you for if you're not even going to do your job? You're supposed to tell me when Shaw moves, every time he fucking moves. I shouldn't be finding out he's in New York three hours before I'm supposed to see him."

Sean shrugs impetuously, annoyance clear on his face as he swipes his hair off his forehead, and it's lucky for him that Darwin chooses that moment to reenter the warehouse.

"Want me to take you to the Armani on 66th and Madison? They have some of your new suits ready for pickup," Darwin says glancing from Erik to Sean. He shares a look with Sean that has Sean exiting the warehouse, and Erik doesn't quite smile. Darwin, like Alex, knows him well.

"I'll take the car myself. Go with Sean. Make sure his balances the accounts before his meeting with Deidre."

Darwin nods, and then reaches into his pocket, digging around. After a moment, he pulls out a kerchief, dampens it with water from his Poland Spring and offers it to Erik.

"You have a little blood on your neck. Leon's very good at not noticing things, but the other patrons at Armani aren't quite as skilled," Darwin says by way of explanation.

Erik nods, taking the offered handkerchief. He swabs at his neck, and sure enough the blood comes off into the handkerchief.

"Don't forget your cheek," Darwin says, and Erik wipes there as well, and then tries to hand it back to Darwin who stops him, says, "Keep it. I have another."

Darwin moves to leave, and then turns back, adds, "Oh, and I've forwarded you the address of your meeting with Shaw, and the other details I'm sure Sean left out."

Darwin leaves the warehouse, and Erik is alone. Erik takes a moment to readjust his tie and glances around the empty warehouse. Alex should be back in about 20 minutes for cleanup, but Erik takes extra precautions anyway, melding the metal of the gated entrances into the foundations of the doorways. He doesn't need vagrants, or worse, wandering in here before Alex's return. He feels belated regret over his beating of Marko now; Marko's blood is everywhere.

He checks his watch again before exiting the warehouse. Three hours before he has to fuck around with Shaw, and it's only enough time for him to pick up a suit and go over the gem imports with Petrelli.

He unlocks the door to the Mercedes and slips inside, starting it and pulling away from the warehouse. He keeps one hand on the wheel for effect, and uses the other to flip through his email.

_re:_

_ He was flitting around Philly, as you know, for about 3 months, and his plan was to stay on for a little longer, but he up and decided to come to NY. No intelligence as to why, but Frost commandeered a plane to NY about 2 hours ago and contacted the office about meeting. Her and Red are both going to be there. Wear something nice __ I checked out the suits before coming here, the gray one will look the best._

He shrugs in annoyance, tossing the tablet into the back. Shaw arriving in New York unplanned doesn't bode well at all, and Frost at dinner even less so. Erik briefly toys with the idea of just not showing up to, but although Shaw is often amused by Erik's disobedience, Erik doesn't think skipping out on this dinner will go over well at all.

And he has to know too, whether Shaw is planning on staying in New York long, because Erik's plans are still in the making. He's vowed to kill Shaw, told the bastard to his face, but he isn't ready yet, still has things he needs to take care of first.

It's about 20 minutes before he arrives at the Armani, and when Leon shows him the new suits, Erik grins as he looks through them. Darwin is always right, and he leaves the rest of his orders there for Darwin to pick up later, taking the gray one back to his apartment with him.

He showers, dresses, and then heads to the meeting with Petrelli, which goes by quickly and mostly smoothly. ("_We're missing a shipment of rubies," Petrelli says in a rush as if that'll make Erik not notice it, and Erik sighs, runs a hand down his face. "Well, find them. Tell Havok and take care of it.")_

It's 5:20, and he's on his way to dinner at Shaw's restaurant downtown. He's checked in with Alex and Darwin, gotten the updates on Delaware and Jersey, so he's satisfied enough to feel cool-headed for his meeting with Shaw, which is exactly what he needed.

After he steps out of his car and steers it down the darkened street, into the empty lot next door to the restaurant, Azazel appears and stretches out his hand. Erik takes it, and Azazel teleports him beneath the restaurant. There are no stairs into the basement level, so Azazel is the only one who can take people out and keep people in. Perfect for clandestine meetings, and other things Shaw undoubtedly does in here.

Erik walks down the hall, staring at the familiar red carpeting and white walls. The mirrors are a new addition and he watches himself in them as Azazel leads him to the dining room. He looks good, a little tired, but good, and he runs a hand through his hair.

Azazel stops at the doorway to the dining room, and Erik walks past him inside. Shaw and Frost are already seated at the table. He notes the diamonds in Frost's ears and along her neck ─ new ─ and the coldness of her smile as she eyes him across the table. Shaw is facing her, so he doesn't see Erik but Erik knows that Shaw knows he's there.

"Shaw, Frost," he says as a greeting, slipping into the empty seat next to Shaw.

"Now, Erik, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Sebastian and her Emma?" Shaw says, his tone admonishing.

"He can call me Frost," Frost says, baring her teeth at Erik. Shaw sighs as Erik gives her a predatory grin in return.

"Really, you two," Shaw says, addressing Erik and Emma as if they're children.

Erik recognizes the press of Emma's mind into his, and he thinks at her, _didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to mess around in other people's heads?_

She smiles at him across the table, and he hears a laugh in his mind, sharp and high.

_They did,_ she thinks at him simply, the rest of her response left unsaid.

_I hope your stay is comfortable,_ he says before consciously blocking her out of his bottommost thoughts and memories, a trick he's been perfecting since he met her. He watches her expression across the table, and sees the slightest tremor in her brow. He smiles before turning back to Shaw, who's watching the TV in the background with interest.

"The Rangers are losing to the Lightnings. This is disappointing," Shaw says, turning his attention back to the table.

"Do you watch hockey, Erik?" Shaw continues, focusing his attention on him.

"No, I don't have the time. I'm managing your North-East operations, remember?" Erik says with bite, which only gets him a chuckle from Shaw.

"You need to live a little, Erik," Shaw says.

Azazel returns at that moment, flashing next to the table with a tray. He sets out the dishes on the table before taking his seat next to Emma.

"Thank you, Azazel," Shaw says, and Erik nods in acknowledgement before reaching across the table for the spinach.

They eat in silence for a moment, and it's Shaw's obvious good mood that finally pushes Erik into breaking it.

"What are you doing back in New York? I thought you were staying in Philly for another month at least," Erik says, dropping his fork into his plate.

"Keeping track of my movements, Erik?" Shaw says, humour in his voice.

"Yes," Erik says, "but that doesn't answer my question."

Frost gives him a look across the table, but Erik ignores it.

"What would you say if I told you I missed seeing your face regularly?"

Erik feels the hatred boil within and pushes it down as he answers, "That's not the reason."

"Fine, Erik, I missed New York. There's no place like the Big Apple," Shaw says in a tone that Erik recognizes as final.

He's not going to be getting any straight answers tonight, and he doesn't care if Frost can feel his frustration, doesn't bother to block it.

"And Emma just missed the shopping, didn't you sweetheart?" Shaw says.

Frost smiles sweetly and says, "Of course."

She catches Erik's eye, and her smile widens.

_Oh, sweetie. You need to work on keeping all that negativity down. It's not good for your health._

Erik glares at her, but that only makes her smile wider, the bitch.

"Oh, don't forget to tell Erik about the meeting," Frost says, touching Shaw's hand across the table.

"What meeting?" Erik asks suspiciously.

"Oh, that, in about a couple month's time, I'm bringing in all my heads of operations into New York so you can talk strategy. I want to enter a new market," Shaw says.

"A new market?" Erik asks, but Shaw just waves his hand, doesn't elaborate and turns back to the TV.

"Ah, they've made a comeback. Azazel, you did place that bet on them, right?"

Azazel nods, and Erik grits his teeth and starts eating again. A new market, and Shaw was telling him nothing.

His fork warps beneath his fingers, but Erik barely notices as he continues to eat.


	2. II

**II.**

Alex is tiredly flipping through a magazine during his lunch break when Armando walks in, dressed like a movie-style gangster to a tee, and Alex puts down the magazine because this is more entertaining than whether Brangelina will last.

"And what's got you all dressed up, dude?" Alex asks, sitting forward in his seat as Armando crashes down on the couch across from him.

"You know the Jersey block, they love to play the role, and it's much easier to deal with them if I play it too," Armando says.

"But damn, this suit is hot," he continues, tugging off the tie around his neck, and sliding out of his suit jacket, "It must be 100 degrees outside."

"Can't you just..._adapt_ to the weather?" Alex asks, and Armando gives him a look in response.

"I can, but I have to be really hot. It has to be life threatening. The heat outside is just uncomfortable," Armando says by way of explanation as he unbuttons the top half of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves. He slides back into the couch, closing his eyes.

"Better?" Alex says, and Armando opens his eyes to look at him.

A grin slowly spreads across Armando's face, and he replies, "Yeah, much."

Alex is about to say something else (what, he isn't sure) but Sean bursts into the room, interrupting him. Sean looks excited - or anxious, Alex can't really tell, but there is obviously something on his mind because he has that expression on his face of barely contained words, and he's bouncing on the balls of his feet as he messes with his tablet.

"You dealt with accounting?" Armando directs at Sean, and Sean nods, still bouncing, so Alex decides that accounting isn't the subject of his excitement. He's exhausted, not really up to dealing with Sean's infinite energy at the moment, but he knows there's no way around it.

"What's up?" Alex asks, and Sean flops down next to Armando on the couch before answering.

"So, you know, Cain Marko, the guy who owes us 11 G's that we had to shake down two days ago?" Sean starts, waiting for Alex and Armando's response.

They nod, and he continues, "Yeah, so guess who his step-brother is?"

Sean's grinning like a madman, and it's a little too hot for Alex to play along, so he just groans out, "Who?"

"Charles. Charles Xavier."

Alex sits up in his chair, forgetting his fatigue and the heat.

"Erik's Charles Xavier?" he asks, just for confirmation. It's not like that name is common.

"Yeah. His name seemed so familiar to me, and I wondered why until I remembered when Erik had us do the background check on him and his name came up. They haven't spoken in like six years, but still, this is a weird coincidence. Do you think we should tell Erik?" Sean says, looking between him and Armando. Armando hasn't said anything yet, but Alex knows that look on Armando's face. He's thinking, and he's thinking hard.

After a moment, Armando, pushes up from the chair, and says, "No. We shouldn't. That'll just tip Erik over the edge, knowing that Xavier's brother owes us. No, we'll tell him after this whole thing with Shaw blows over. When he's calm."

Alex silently agrees, and for a minute, Sean looks like he's going to protest, but then he shakes his head as if thinking better of it.

"So, let's just forget it for the moment, right? Who's up for some foosball?" Sean asks, and Alex jumps up.

"Bring it on, Banshee," Alex says, walking over to the foosball table.

* * *

><p>Erik's week is going about as well as can be expected post-Shaw's arrival. He's tense and on edge, and it doesn't help that things are fucking up spectacularly at South East operations, enough to leave him dealing with the fallout. He's tempted to just take a flight down to Charlotte and rip Pyro a new one in person, but leaving Shaw alone in his territory sits just about as well as a knife in his side.<p>

He returns to the office after another wasted hour on the phone at the unairconditioned offices in Midtown trying to get a handle on the bookie collections in the Carolinas to find Sean and Alex playing foosball while Darwin lounges half asleep on one of the couches, and it ticks him off more than it really should.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he half-shouts, startling Alex into shooting the little foosball players so hard that the ball shoots off the table and skids across the floor.

"Jesus, Erik, chill. We're just taking a break. The collecting for the day is done, and Deidre's been handled, so it's not like we're slacking off," Sean says, his tone is a little too cheeky for Erik's taste.

He gives Sean a vague smile ─ perhaps he's been too easy on them lately, if they think he's the type of person they can just mouth off to him like he can't and won't strangle them with their own belts. Erik can see Darwin watching out of the corner of his eye, and knows Darwin's realized that Sean has gone too far, too damn perceptive for his own good sometimes.

Darwin leans forward, opens his mouth to speak, but Erik waves his finger at him in a _tsk_ing motion, silencing him.

"Havok, Banshee, Darwin," he starts, and grins when he sees them freeze. He only ever calls them by their nicknames when he's feeling particularly nasty. He likes the fear in their eyes; it's exhilarating.

"All done with your work for the day? That's good ─ Damon was just lamenting that he needed some more bodies downtown to do some fencing at the clubs."

Sean groans, but he wisely doesn't say another word while Alex fetches the foosball ball, looking forlorn.

"Darwin, I'm going to need you to stay here and handle Pyro and his nonsense," Erik continues, and he catches the dirty look Sean shoots Darwin at his words and doesn't miss the grin Darwin throws back at him.

Erik exits then, walking to his office at the far end of the hall. It's cool when he opens the door - just the way he likes it, and he starts to head toward his desk, before thinking better of it and sliding onto the leather couch. He shrugs at the collar of his v-neck. Even the thin shirt makes him feel hot, and he pulls one of the metal clipboards towards him, brushing his fingers against the cool steel in almost ecstasy.

There is a knock at his door, and he pulls it open, openly glaring at Darwin as he lounges in the doorway.

"There something unclear about my orders? Do you need me to explain what I want in more detail?" Erik says with a sharp edge to his voice.

"I heard about the major meeting Shaw's throwing. You need me to start preparing anything?" Darwin says smooth, as if Erik had mentioned the meeting in passing, as if he's supposed to know anything about it.

Erik's annoyance is dulled by his lack of surprise, but it's still there. However, Darwin's good at what he does so Erik pushes it to the back of his mind.

"No, just stick to keeping tabs on him. And Frost, especially Frost. If anything, she's less trustworthy than him."

Darwin nods and lingers for a moment, giving Erik a contemplative look. Erik's just about to tell him to fuck off when he leaves, disappearing down the hall. Erik shuts the door behind him, and pulls his tablet over to him, checking the latest bank statements before throwing it back onto his desk, barely keeping it from falling off the edge.

He can feel a migraine forming and he rubs his head tiredly, willing it go away. He starts to close his eyes to go to sleep, but opens them again, giving his tablet a sharp look before dragging it back to him.

He signs in to his other account to see a picture of Charles Xavier laughing as an older, bald man claps him on the back.

_Nothing new to report _is appended to the bottom of the picture, and he gives it one final look before shutting it off and falling into a doze, blue eyes flitting in and out of his dreams.

* * *

><p>Charles is at his desk grading papers when Raven walks in to the apartment. He can hear her as she settles in, throws her keys at the key hook, misses, lets them drop to the floor ─ a thought of <em>whatever<em> flashing through his mind ─ hangs her coat up, and walks down the hall towards him.

He looks up when her shadow passes in front of the doorway.

"Hello, Raven," he says, and she gives him a blinding grin, swiping blonde hair out of her face.

"Hello, Charles. So, guess what I did today?" she says, walking into the room, and settling down on the couch.

Charles takes a moment to look her over. She looks happy, bright so he assumes it's because today was her day off.

"Shopping?" he replies vaguely. Raven rolls her eyes and shakes her head at him in disappointment.

"Shopping? Charles, that is not the only thing I do with my free time," she says, and there is a glint in her eye that Charles finds disconcerting.

"Raven..." he starts warningly.

She waves her hand dismissively, says, "I tried out for that modeling gig I was telling you about. They seemed to really like me."

Charles just shakes his head. "I don't understand why modeling is so important to you, but I'm glad you had a nice day."

He pauses, gathering the pile of graded exams in his hands and moving them aside.

"I need to finish grading these exams, but what do you want for dinner?" he asks, looking at the next exam. Three blanks on the first page, what a waste.

Raven makes a grunting noise, and then says sharply, "Whatever you want, Charles."

At her tone, Charles looks up, giving her a curious look, but before he can think to ask, the phone rings.

"I'll get it," Raven says, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the phone in the living room.

Charles looks back down at the exam, wishes that he had been able to convince Amy to come speak to him (but she'd been more worried about whether Nicole was going to call her back then her failing grades), and starts to tally up her deducted points.

He's halfway through the exam (50/75 already) when Raven reenters the room. There is a long silence, and finally he looks up to see her standing in the doorway, grimacing.

"Guess what roach decided to crawl back into our lives?" Raven says with such venom that Charles knows who it is before she finishes the question.

"What did Cain want?" Charles asks, dropping his pen to the table, and standing up to go over to Raven. He pulls at her arm, tugging her to the couch, where they both sit, Raven's head on his shoulder as she fiddles with the bottom of her dress.

"What do you think he wanted? Money, of course," she says, scoffing.

"I laughed at him, told him not to call again, and then hung up the phone," she continues. "It felt good."

Charles feels a thrum of satisfaction so strong that he almost mistakes it for his own.

He stays silent for a moment, and then says, "Perhaps, we should've just given him something. He is...family."

Raven twists in his arms to glare at him. "Charles, sometimes you are just too..._good_ for your own good. Cain is _not_ family; it doesn't matter what the legal documents say, marriage does not make you family."

Charles knows that she is right, but he can't help the guilt he still feels. He doesn't voice his thoughts though, doesn't want to burden Raven with them.

Instead he says, "This calls for something nice. Ravioli for dinner then, and perhaps a movie if I have time. Maybe, what's that movie you like ─ Hitman?"

Raven smiles at him. "Deal, but you grade, I make the ravioli because I cook better anyway, and we definitely watch Hitman."

He grins at her and says, "Deal."

Three hours later they are halfway through Transporter 2, after a meal of Raven's best ravioli, a dessert of leftover Crumbs cupcakes, and a viewing of Hitman, and Charles has forgotten all about Cain's call as he falls asleep on the couch.


	3. III

**III.**

Erik should've suspected the day would turn to shit the moment his alarm went off and instead of getting up, he flicked it off without moving his head from the pillow and went back to sleep.

He crawls out of bed four hours later. It's 1:30 in the afternoon, but he still needs a cup of coffee to kick start the day, so he starts the machine as he stretches his arms and adjusts himself to the bright light of the afternoon sun in his room. His apartment is freezing, and he almost regrets the steel-tiled floors as the icy touch of the bathroom floor on his feet causes his toes to curl in when he goes to brush his teeth. He shivers, spitting toothpaste into the sink. For a moment, he stares at his reflection in the mirror before rinsing and drying his face.

He makes his way to the kitchen slowly, turning off the AC as he goes and grabbing his phone and tablet from out of the office. He pours himself his coffee as he scrolls through his phone. He's missed six calls and has three new emails all from Darwin.

He raises an eyebrow, swallowing the coffee in large gulps that leave him scalded from the roof of his mouth all the way down to the base of his throat, but it's the email on his personal account that brings him to attention, and he opens it immediately.

_There's a Xavier emergency. Call me ASAP._

The phone is dialing before Erik is even aware, and he's already dumped his coffee and heading to his closet before the second ring.

Darwin picks up on the third, sounding breathless across the line as he says, "Last night Cain Mark sold Xavier to the Krasinki brothers for a cash fall of all of his debt and then some. He dropped off the money this morning and was gone before we got the news. The Krasinkis' men have already picked up Xavier, the auction's tonight at their building on 57th and 3rd."

The feel of the metal around him is a hum in his skin that takes all of his control not to let loose.

"You've tried handling them, right?"

"Done, and no budge. Auction or no Xavier - "

Erik cuts Darwin off with a curse and presses the cell to his chest, willing himself to calm.

"Fuck," he repeats, shaking the furniture in his room with the intensity of his anger.

He lets out a breath, and says, "Get my personal account ready for a large withdrawal. And find Marko. I'll be at the office in 20 and you'll explain how all this shit went down."

"On it," Darwin says, and ends the call. Erik tosses the phone onto his bed, grabbing for the nearest pair of slack and a shirt. The shower's already running.

* * *

><p>Charles ends the class early. Summer classes are always more difficult for the students, and when you can hear their every wish to be outside, at the mall, at Jamie's house, <em>I wish I smoked that blunt before I came to class<em>, _Fox Five said it would rain today, don't tell me I brought my umbrella for nothing_, _"anywhere but here"_, calling it quits early seems like more than a good idea.

"Remember office hours are from 4 to 7 on Tuesdays, so if you want to go over your exam grades, that is the time to do it. The new syllabus is online, I'll see you next week," he says, and the class disperses quickly, thoughts of _thank you, thank you professor_ on all of their minds.

He's gathering up his papers when he feels another presence in the doorway.

_This must be Charles Xavier, looks exactly like the photo_, and Charles knows this isn't one of his students, come back to get a forgotten item.

"Hello, are you looking for something?" he asks, turning to the stranger, a tall, well-dressed Hispanic man with hair that amusingly enough reminds Charles of one of Raven's romance novels.

The man merely looks at him, his expression as unreadable as his thoughts suddenly become, and Charles freezes, the smile on his face slipping.

"You are Professor Charles Xavier, yes?" the man says, smoothing down the folds on his pants.

"Yes, do you have some business with me?" he asks, pressing his fingers to his head, trying to read the man. All he picks up is a pulse of thoughts, not enough to decipher. He's never met anyone with the ability to close off their thoughts from his mind, and it's startling.

"Cain Marko," the man says simply, and suddenly Charles understands. Of course, Cain would mix himself up with people who could make themselves immune to Charles telepathy. The more dangerous the better they had the most money.

He sighs aloud, and says, "How much?"

The man doesn't respond for a moment, and then spreads his hands wide, says, "He said you would comply. The payment can only be made in person, so if you will come with me, Professor."

Charles is wary, but Charles knows this type of man well enough to know that if violence was on his mind, it would already have happened. All he has to do is cooperate, get this over with, and make sure Raven never finds out.

"I need to make a call to the bank first," Charles says, pulling out his cell. "To speed the process of the withdrawal."

The man waves his hand, and then beckons for Charles to walk with him. "That won't be necessary. It's already been handled. You just need to come with us to finalize it."

"Okay," Charles says, following the man out the door. "Can I stop by my office first? To drop off my things?"

The man nods, and follows Charles to his office, where he leaves his students papers and his work for the day, intending to come back to finish it off after Cain's business is said and done.

"This way," the man says after Charles has closed and locked his office. Charles follows, and they walk in what would be a companiable silence if they were friends and not a loan shark and a man willing to pay off his step-brother's debts.

When they reach the parking lot, the man directs him to a Lamborghini parked conspicuously in Charles' own parking spot, and Charles can't but help but be amused by that.

"Please, Professor," the man says, directing him to the passenger side door, and Charles gets in. The man follows, taking his seat behind the wheel, but he doesn't start the car.

Charles waits, watching as the man digs around in his pockets.

"Looking for your keys?" Charles asks.

The man glances at him, his hands stilling in his pockets.

"No," he says, and then Charles gets his first thought from the man since he arrived at his classroom _should last the whole trip _and it's the last thing he hears before there is a sharp pain in his arm, and he blacks out.

* * *

><p>Charles adjusts slowly to the light, blinking painfully against the brightness of it until his eyes can handle staying open. There is a cuff around his neck, pressing into his skin lightly. He tries to move his body, to relieve the painful ache in all his muscles, but finds that he can't ─ he looks down to see his hands bound to the chair he's sitting in. The cuffs are quite solid, and he stops trying to struggle out of them moments after he starts. His body's weak enough as it is, but it is his mind that he's worried about.<p>

Charles takes a calming breath as he assesses the situation. He looks around the room, trying to figure out where he is, even as he reaches out with his mind, looking for someone, anyone he can influence. There's nothing special about the room except Charles can tell everything in it, from the normal looking bookcase to the average looking desk, is expensive.

His mental reach finds nothing, and he reaches out again, going farther, putting more power behind it, but it is as if everyone has suddenly died ─ he is met with only silence and an emptiness that leaves him panting and sweating. It's not like the man who'd kidnapped him; Charles could still feel him although he'd been unable to discern the pattern of his thoughts until too late. This is much worse, like someone has snuffed out the light. Even with his two working eyes, without his telepathy he feels blind.

And he is, he realizes moments later when his heavy breathing gives way to the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.

"You're awake!" a man says, sounding surprised or excited; Charles can't tell.

Charles tries to reach out to him, even though he knows it's useless, and he is met with inevitable silence.

"Sorry about this," the man says, coming to a stand in front of Charles, and Charles' eyes are drawn to the needle that he's prepping in his hands as casually as a nurse who's done it a million times before. The image of the man, tall and built, in a nurses' uniform almost makes Charles giggle aloud, and he realizes with a kind of detached awe that he is panicking.

"Please," he starts to say, not sure what he's going to ask. _Let me go? Stop this? I was cooperating, dammit._

"Shh," the man says, bending down and patting Charles on the cheek, before grabbing his arm, and rolling up his sleeve.

"This'll make everything better. I know my associate didn't do this correctly, you're all red," the man says, running an alcohol swab across Charles' arm.

"It's a good colour on you," the man adds, almost as an afterthought, and Charles watches in detached fascination as the needle breaks his skin. It's painful at first, but whatever's in the needle works quickly, and soon he forgets why he was freaking out because he feels good, but then he remembers as if pushing through a fog ─ he wants to go home.

"Let me go, just take your money and let me go," Charles says, but the man is only amused by this, leaning closer to Charles and covering his mouth with the hand not holding the used needle.

"Shh, you're slurring. You must've really thought ─ Riptide said ─"

The man cuts off his words abruptly, staring at Charles' in a way that Charles is too out of it to even attempt to understand. He's staring at the man's forehead, fascinated by the light brush of hair at its center. A widow's peak, and Charles wonders which parent carried the trait, whether it was both, and then is amused by the image of a family of widow's peaks.

He smiles into the man's hand, keen on sharing the joke, but the man drops the needle to the floor, reaching out, and brushing Charles hair with his hand, effectively distracting him.

"You're going to bring us in a lot of money, but that doesn't mean I can't play first, right?" he says, and Charles just stares at him in confusion.

"Huh," he says, and the man shushes him again before catching Charles off guard with a kiss. Charles' tries to pull away ─ the man tastes like sweet mint and fries, a combination Charles is not fond of ─ but he's trapped with nowhere to go. The man starts sliding his tongue against Charles' lips, trying to pry them open, and Charles is keenly reminded of the puppy he and Raven had when they were younger; he used to wake Charles up like this every morning, and Charles was even less fond of it now than he was ten years ago.

The man finally succeeds, and Charles bites his tongue when it enters his mouth, causing the man to jerk back. Charles closes his eyes, breathing heavily, and then there is a bruising grip on his thigh, and another hand jerking at the belt of his pants.

"Wait , stop-" Charles says as the zip of his pants is pulled down, but his words sound like buzzing to his own ears, and he blinks rapidly, sudden tears springing up in his eyes.

"David, what in the hell? Stop it," another voice says, shocking both Charles and the man trying to slide a hand into Charles' pants.

"Spoilsport," the man, _David_, says, removing his hands from Charles and reaching down to pick up the forgotten syringe.

"You know Magneto's interested, why would you risk that kind of money? You're such an idiot," the voice says, walking into Charles' line of vision.

He looks like a miniature, hairier version of David. _Brothers_, Charles thinks.

"Widow's peak," he says aloud, drawing confused looks from the two men. Charles' is then distracted by the interesting colour of the walls, and barely notices as the man says, "David, you drugged him again?"

"Just trying to relax him."

There is silence for a moment as Charles tries to identify the exact shade of blue the wall is painted, and then the man is grabbing at his wrists and unlocking the cuffs around them.

"Come on," David says, grabbing one of his arms.

"Oh, where are we going?" Charles asks, but neither of the brothers answer as they drag him along the hallways too quickly for Charles to process.

They stop in a room where a young woman lounges on a couch.

"Hello," Charles says cheerfully, "Your genetic makeup is simply beautiful."

She stares at him for a moment, before turning to the men holding him.

"He's a professor of genetics or some shit. We just need a cleanup, no makeup or whatever. Already have an interested buyer."

"Someone famous?" she asks with a smile that Charles notices doesn't reach her brown eyes, and he's about to mention it, but David leans against him and he's distracted by the urge to run away.

"David, leave him alone, and it's Magneto," the brother says, releasing Charles and forcing David to release him as well. Charles stumbles, not realizing how much he was using them to hold himself up, and allows the girl to pull him onto the couch.

"That's something you don't hear every day," she comments, running a hand down Charles' face. He stares at her and she stares back, as she says, "He'll be ready in fifteen."

"Make it ten. Magneto's sure to be on time, and I don't want to give him a chance to tear the roof down. Or change his mind."

"Beautiful hands," Charles says as the woman starts to unbutton his cardigan, "You remind me of my sister."

"Thanks," she says with a sarcasm Charles doesn't catch.

"My sister - Raven - let me go to Raven," he says, trying to pull away from her, but she holds him down easily.

"I can't, I'm sorry, Charles," she says, running her hands down chest and unbuttoning his shirt as well. She sounds so genuine that he stops struggling and lets her finish, ignoring how cold the air feels against his skin as he's stripped nude.

She stands up and walks across the room, and Charles has his first thought about Cain since he woke up. Cain had done something, promised something. Not money, or more money than Charles has which is just ridiculous because Charles has a lot. He felt bad ─ Cain had lost Kurt, but now Charles was naked on a couch and that wasn't a fair balance.

"Charles?" the woman says, touching his shoulder, and Charles blinks up at her.

"Come on," she says, reaching out a hand, and he grabs it, standing up.

"Wait, I'm not dressed," he protests, but she laughs, dragging him through a door in the back of the room and into an elevator. There is no one around but her, but he feels naughty anyway, his heart beating fast as he conjures images of exiting the elevator to a crowd of people.

"It's cold," he says, and she squeezes his hand in an expression of comfort, before dragging him out the elevator and down another hall.

"This is dizzying, all these halls," he says.

"We're here," she says, coming to a stop in front of another door. There is a silence on the other side, mental and physical, and Charles shivers.

"I can't hear you," he says, "I can't hear anyone."

"I really am sorry," she says, and then she's wrapping a blindfold across his eyes and he's blind as well as deaf. Senseless, lost.

"Just hold my hand, and don't be ─"

Whatever she was going to say, she doesn't, just pushing open the door and leading Charles through it slowly.

"Watch your step," she says, "we're going up," and her heels click loudly against the stairs. He follows the sound.

"Good, he's here," a voice ─ David's brother, Charles' recognizes ─ says.

"Our last bid of the evening," he says, and Charles is confused. He can't tell what's going on at all, but the woman is letting go of his hand, and he's being pulled by David's brother now? The hand is manlier than the woman's, rougher.

"Wait, I'm nude," he says, remembering, because he can't see ─ _are there people watching?_

He is met with only silence. The man stops and then turns Charles around multiple times, too slowly to be dizzying but fast enough to disorient him completely.

"What?" Charles asks when they finally stop, but still there is only silence.

After a moment that seems to take forever, the man says, "Bidding will start at $8.5 million."

"9.5 million."

"10 million."

"20 million."

"50 million."

"110 million, is that the final bid?"

"Sold."

Charles is completely lost.

* * *

><p>When Erik walks in to the building, it's with a confidence built and enforced by the rage that's been coursing through him all day. He smiles at the doorman, making sure to show all his teeth when he does, and the man directs him to the 11th floor with an air of terror.<p>

The elevator ride is comfortable, and Erik spends the moments in it memorizing the shape of every piece of metal within the elevator and contemplating what he's going to do once he has Charles. He's not going to pretend he hasn't thought of finally meeting him again, of what would happen when they did. Buying Charles from the Krasinkis because of a debt owed to Erik himself by Charles' stepbrother was not a situation he'd ever entertained, however, so he's a bit thrown for a loop.

The doors of the elevator open to a waiting David Krasinki, and Erik glares at him as he steps out of the elevator.

"Don't you have an auction to run?" Erik says, walking down the hallway towards the sale hall. He's only been here once before, but Erik remembers every building he's ever been in, right down to the very foundations.

"That's Indio's deal, I was just curious as to why this Professor is of such interest to you," David says, grinning at Erik.

Erik doesn't give him a response; he doesn't owe him one.

But David continues speaking anyways, says, "I admit he is quite adorable. And he tastes delicious."

David is thrown across the wall before Erik brings himself to a stop.

"Not smart, Davey," Erik says, walking over towards him. "I believe you were told he was to be untouched."

David never stands a chance to protest; Erik rips the filling out his tooth, drawing the bloody metal into his palm and David screams, falling to the floor when Erik releases his hold on his cufflinks.

"That was not a warning. If Xavier is harmed in any way, a single scrape, I promise you I will rip out the rest of your fillings and put them in places you never dreamed they could be."

He leans down and grabs David's hand, placing the filling into his palm, and closing David's fingers around it.

He wipes his hand on David's shoulder before entering the sale hall. None of the other bidders look at him when he enters, and he smirks as he passes by their seats, and they inch away from him. Their fear is palpable, and Erik loves the feeling of it.

He takes a seat in the corner closest to the pickup exit and waits.

It doesn't take long before Indio takes the stage, leading Charles with him.

"Bidding will start at $8.5 million," Indio says, but Erik barely hears him. All he can see is Charles, blindfolded and nude. The sight both angers and arouses him, and he curses Darwin's voice in his head as it reminds him, "Don't kill either of them please. Shaw won't appreciate that."

_Fuck Shaw,_ Erik thinks bitterly, and enters his bid into the tablet still hooked on the side of his seat without looking at it, keeping his gaze focused on Charles. He can't see any bruises or cuts ─ just the faint lines of muscle and an expanse of smooth, appealing skin ─ but he'll make sure to check him carefully before he takes him home.

_Home_ ─ Erik tries not to think about that part

"110 million, is that the final bid?" Indio's voice says, breaking through Erik's thoughts. _110,000,000, when did it get that high?_ Erik doesn't even realize he'd been bidding against someone, and he scans the crowd for any disappointed looking bidder. He's not sure what he's going to do when he finds the other bidder (he's totally sure, actually, already loosening the screws in the empty seat beside him), but Indio's voice turns his attention away from his search.

"Sold."

Indio looks dead at him, and then nods his head towards the door near Erik's seat. Erik stands, scanning the crowd one last time, but when Charles is led off the stage, he exits through the door.

"The third room on the left," the man waiting outside the door says, directing Erik there, and he's not nervous as he approaches the room. It's more like excitement; he's not ashamed to admit that he's been stalking Charles since that night five years ago. Alex was right, though, when he called it, "unhealthy and creepy, what the fuck, Magneto " ─ and when had the little shit gotten the idea that it was okay to speak to Erik like that. He makes a mental note to put Alex on fencing duty for the next three years.

He opens the door with a flick of his wrist to see Charles standing, still blindfolded in the middle of the room.

It's so tempting that Erik can't resist and he crosses the room with three strides, and turns Charles to face him. Charles moans softly, swaying in Erik's arms, and Erik realizes he's been drugged ─ with what he can't tell.

He slides his hands down past Charles shoulders, using one hand to hold him up by the curve of his waist, and the other to slide across Charles' body, checking for cuts. He finds none, but the tiny pinprick sized holes where the needles entered Charles skin.

Charles moans again, and Erik thinks it's because of the drugs. That thought is quickly rectified though as Charles presses against him, and Erik can feel the unmistakable press of an erection against his thigh.

"Shit," he says aloud, his fingers digging into Charles waist as his body begins to react to feel of Charles pressed against him. His pants are suddenly too tight, and the room is too warm as Charles' fingers grasp at the fabric of his jacket.

"Please," Charles says brokenly, and Erik loses it. He pushes Charles until he falls backwards against the only couch in the room. He doesn't leave Charles alone long, only stopping to tug off his suit jacket before pressing Charles into the couch.

Charles is still blindfolded, but Erik doesn't care as he presses a sloppy kiss against Charles mouth, groaning when Charles' tongue presses against his lips, tentatively at first, and then hungrily as Erik opens his mouth and lets him in. Charles' hands slide along his stomach, pulling up Erik's shirt as they go, until Charles is touching Erik's bare skin.

When Charles' hands slide lower, Erik growls, biting at Charles lips before unfastening his belt and sliding the zip down on his pants. At the rate they're going, it's going to be over in seconds, but Charles is panting now, so Erik doesn't really care, just wants to feel Charles against him before he does.

_Better than I thought it would be_, Erik thinks before he pushes his pants and boxers down just enough to pull out his cock. He hisses at the touch of his own fingers, he's so close. He fumbles as he tries to adjust their position, Charles legs tangling with his, but then Charles says, "please" again, and finally, _finally,_ his cock is pressing against Charles'.

He uses one hand to hold himself up, and the other to slide his hand along both his and Charles cock. The feeling is almost like dying, it's so painfully perfect, and he leans down to kiss Charles again. They're both panting, and Charles keeps murmuring something Erik doesn't understand. Both he and Charles are leaking precum, and it's just enough lubrication to make the friction tolerable. There is a painful, desperate edge to their grinding that touches Erik in a way he barely understands ─ he just _wants, needs_ it to continue, needs the feeling of Charles' hips pressed against his own, of Charles fingers digging into his back.

"Fuck," Erik says, his nose bumping against Charles', their sweaty foreheads pressed together.

He presses his thumb to the tip of Charles' cock, rubbing, and that's all it takes before Charles is grinding against him, cumming with a moan that sends Erik spiraling over the edge with him. When he comes down a long moment later, he removes his hand from their cocks, pulling away from Charles painfully. His hands is sticky, covered in their combined cum and he wipes it on the couch without care. He realizes belatedly that there are multiple stains forming on his shirt and pants and he's covered in sweat, but he can't find it in himself to be bothered by it, his focus only on the sweaty man beneath him.

Erik reaches up, and slides the blindfold over Charles' head, removing it. Charles eyes are closed, but after a moment, they flutter open, and it's like that alleyway all over again ─ _piercing blue eyes and a warm hand reaching down to help him stand_. Charles' gaze is so bright that Erik almost looks away.

They stare at each other for a long moment, before Charles coughs, blinking furiously as he does. When he stops, he stares at Erik again.

"Who the hell are you?" Charles says, and Erik feels something shift inside him.

"I'm the man you owe $110 million. I own you," he says, the words falling out of his mouth without a thought. He sits backwards in the chair and pulling his jacket over to him from where he'd thrown it to the floor.

He can feel Charles' gaze on him, glances at him to see a shocked look on his face.

Charles doesn't remember him at all.


	4. IV

**IV.**

_Good_, Erik thinks, grinning at Charles predatorily. He recognizes his anger, it's such a familiar emotion, but the disappointment, that's a new one.

He looks down at Charles body, his eyes settling on his flaccid cock, before travelling back up to Charles' face. Charles is looking at him like he's insane, and the feeling of satisfaction Erik gets from that is stronger than the anger at the lack of recognition in Charles' eyes.

"Who are you?" Charles repeats, frowning and rubbing at his head. Erik watches as he presses two fingers to his forehead, a consternated expression on his face. He closes his eyes, and then opens them, piercing Erik with a stare that makes him almost forget who he is, where they are ─

But Charles breaks his gaze, breaks the silence and says, "I can't hear you."

It's Erik's turn to be confused. "What?"

Charles doesn't elaborate however, just closes his eyes. He's breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes, and Erik watches for a moment, before he decides that they've been sitting in that room too long. Way too long.

"Up," he says, and Charles doesn't move.

Erik flicks out his hand to make him do so, before recalling that the only metal on Charles' is the band around his throat, and Erik doesn't want to choke him in his haste, so he grabs Charles by the wrist, pulling him into a sitting position on the couch.

"Stop," Charles' says, but that only makes Erik pull him harder. He's on his feet, wobbling, moments later.

"It's time for us to go."

He gives Charles the same look that he gives his men when he's not in the mood for any arguments, but apparently Charles doesn't understand the dangerous ground he's treading on because he struggles in Erik's grip, protesting.

"Not going with you," he says.

"I don't think you understand what 'I own you' means. You don't have a choice in this," he says, and then starts to pull Charles again.

He stops, halfway to the door, and turns to look at Charles. _Still naked, _so he throws his jacket at Charles.

"Put this on," he says, and thankfully, Charles obeys, sliding quickly into the expensive jacket. Erik is taller than Charles, so it falls just past Charles' ass ─ a perfect fit, as long as Charles doesn't bend over.

His brain tries to dwell on that image, but he pushes the arousal away, sinking his mind into the feel of metal of the lamp on the couch's end table. It's cheaply made ─ a silver finish to make it seem worth the loads of money the Krasinkis no doubt paid for it, but beneath it's made of lesser metal: nickel, zinc, a hint of aluminum. Erik feels out every piece of that lamp, subtly changing its shape to better fit the pieces of the metal that make it up, redistributing its content so that the magnetic field is stronger, his control over it more secure.

It relaxes him considerably, and he doesn't pull on Charles wrist so hard, tugging at him gently. Charles reacts better to this, following Erik without protest.

He opens the door and heads out. Indio Krasinki is waiting. Charles flinches when he sees him, but then relaxes back against Erik.

Erik wants to ask "why?", but he doesn't because he doesn't care. He just wants to get Charles' to his apartment, take a shower and change, and deal with all the other shit later.

"You took awhile in there," Indio comments. Erik starts to glare at him, but Indio is smooth, continues quickly with, "Your subordinate already patched the money through. You're free to go. It was lovely doing business with you."

"My pleasure," Erik says, all bite, and when Erik extends his hands, Indio drops the keys to Charles' cuff in them. It's not like Erik needs it but as he examines the thin metal strip wrapped around Charles' neck, he realizes how curious a piece of metal it is. He can identify adamantium, copper, and silver in its make up, but there is a fourth metal whose identity eludes him. It's something he's never felt before, and he turns to Indio.

"What is this?" he asks, running his finger over Charles' cuff.

Indio watches the movement of his hand for a moment, before answering, "It's a mutation suppressant. Sometimes we get mutants in here. It never hurts to be safe."

Erik nods, continuing to slide his hand along Charles' throat. Charles is utterly human ─ Erik knows one on sight ─ the collar is nothing but a very pretty ornament around his neck, and Erik decides he's going to keep it.

"Safety is the top priority," he says offhandedly, and the man nods. The irony of a kidnapper and slaver being worried about safety doesn't escape Erik.

"What did you drug him with?" he says, abruptly moving his hands from Charles' neck and settling a steely look on Indio.

Indio takes a step back, and Erik takes satisfaction from that.

"Uh, I'm not sure. Nothing harmful. David assures me that it'll wear off within another hour or so. "

Erik bristles at David's name, and Indio starts to babble, his words stumbling over each other. "I'll just patch you through to our doctor, won't I? Send the info to your subordinate?"

"Yes, do that," Erik says. He smiles at Indio, all teeth, and then turns to Charles who is swaying lightly on his feet. "And his clothes?"

Indio shakes his head, dazed, and disappears into another room down the hall. Moments later, he returns with a neat pile of clothing. Erik looks it over, frowning at the brown cardigan, the blue pants. _He's a professor, alright_, he thinks dryly and presses the clothes into Charles' arms.

"Get dressed," he says. Charles just stares at him, and Erik feels a thread of annoyance until Charles' eyes flicker to Indio, who is still standing in the hall with them.

Erik looks at him as well, and Indio takes the hint, leaves. Erik looks back at Charles who is still unmoving.

"Dress," Erik repeats. It feels like he's talking to an incredibly dumb child. _Such a role-reversal_, he thinks, amused.

Charles dresses slowly, and Erik cracks his knuckles impatiently.

When he's finished dressing, Erik says, "Come on, Charles," pulling on Charles hand again. Charles follows quickly, and is quiet the whole elevator ride down, his eyes shut for most of it.

He doesn't even protest when Erik pushes him into his car, and Erik gives him a perplexed look across the seat only to find Charles has fallen asleep.

He looks so innocent that Erik almost regrets what he's doing, but he drags his gaze away, focusing on the fact that he paid one hundred and ten million for Charles. If he's going to spend that kind of money, he's going to get what he paid for.

He calls up Darwin.

"Did Krasinki send you the doctor's contact information?"

"Yeah. I already got through to him. It's a mild sedative and relaxant. Should wear off in another hour. Is he asleep?"

Erik feels a momentary suspicion, but the feeling passes quickly. "Yeah, why?"

"Oh good. The doc said it'll pass faster if he sleeps it off. Also, we've got a lead on Marko."

Erik sits forward in his seat as he shifts lanes, speeding towards his apartment. "What? Where is he?"

"Haven't got that yet, but he took a plane out of LaGuardia this morning to Seattle. He transferred there, but to what flight we don't know yet."

Erik nods, and says, "Call me back when you do."

He's about to hang up when Darwin says, sounding almost nervous, "So, what are you going to do with him?"

"Who? Marko? You know what I'm going to do with him," Erik says, and can almost hear Darwin's eye roll across the line.

"Xavier," Darwin corrects, "What are you going to do with him?"

Erik looks over at Charles, who's still sleeping across the chair. He can feel Charles' pulse against the metal band around his neck, a steady, comforting beat.

"I'm going to keep him," he says with a finality that brooks no argument.

"Later, boss," Darwin says, and hangs up. Erik slides his phone into his pocket, and glances over at Charles. He's still asleep, but they're already at Erik's apartment, and he has no interest in carrying Charles up the stairs so he taps him hard to wake him up.

"Come on," he says, and slides his hand into Charles', helping him out the car. Charles is half asleep on his feet, and once again, Erik is pulling him along like a dog on a leash.

The doorman doesn't look at either of them when they enter, and the man at the front desk doesn't look him in the eye when Erik stares him down.

The elevator up to his apartment is inoperable past the 8th floor. Erik lives on the 12th, and every time he gets in elevator, he carries the elevator up the last four floors. It's tiring, a little difficult, especially when he's as tired as he already is. It's only his need to survive that actually carries the elevator to those floors on days like this, and even that sometimes doesn't feel like enough.

With Charles leaning on his shoulder heavily, breathing into the fabric of his shirt, it's easy. He doesn't question why that is, he's not really sure he wants to know the answer. It's easier to think about what he's going to do than why he's going to do it.

He takes his shoes off at the door, and Charles does the same, following his example. He leads Charles through his darkened apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights. When he walks into his bedroom, he briefly considers throwing both him and Charles in the shower, but he's hit suddenly with a bone weary tiredness that causes him to stumble, his eyelids growing too heavy to hold open.

Erik reaches the bed just in time, dragging Charles with him as he does so.

* * *

><p>That night, Erik dreams of Shaw.<p>

It's an old dream, one Erik has experienced many times, but it feels just as real as if the moment is happening all over again.

He is standing in the "White Room" of the Schmidt Research Center for Gifted Children. His mother is in the waiting room, and he is alone. It's quiet; there isn't even a hint of sound in the room besides his own breathing.

He counts his breaths, one, two, and wonders why he is here.

The fear comes naturally ─ he sees the way Ms. Denna looks at him sometimes, like he's something _other_, and he can't blame her when he falls asleep during German, dreams of missiles floating over a bay, and wakes up to find all the pens in the room embedded in the ceiling.

_Everything is alright, Erik_, his mama tells him after he's woken up to again find all of his furniture has rearranged itself. _Everything is alright._

It's the same thing, his mama says, her grandmother used to tell her when she was little as she cried for things Edie would never, could never understand. She doesn't have a grandfather, _Auschwitz_, and her grandmother doesn't elaborate. _Everything is alright_.

The door opens with a click, and a man walks in, carrying a clipboard. He smiles at Erik before turning towards the record player in the corner. A song starts, but Erik doesn't recognize it. The man turns back around, and sits in the seat behind the desk, still smiling at Erik.

Erik gives him a nervous smile in return, wishing desperately that this will be over with soon.

"Erik, do you know why you're here?" he asks, and Erik shakes his head 'no' in response.

"Genes are the key, Erik. The Nazis knew that, but their goals, blue eyes, blonde hair. Pathetic."

The man continues to smile at Erik, and Erik grows more nervous.

"Can my mama be in here with me?" he asks.

The man just looks at him, before continuing, "Genes are the key that unlocks the door to a new age, Erik. A new future for mankind. Evolution."

The man pauses, then says, "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Erik shakes his head in again. He has no idea what the man is talking about, and the feeling of fear is growing with every second.

"It's a simple thing I ask of you, Erik. A little coin is nothing compared to the furniture in your room. Is it?"

Erik knows what the man is asking of him, and he just wants this meeting over with. He looks at the coin on the desk, and reaches out his hands, willing it to move.

He strains, but nothing happens.

"I've tried, " he says, "I can't...I don't..."

He trails off with a nervous smile, and the man shifts in his seat, crossing his legs and presses his hand thoughtfully to his chin.

"The only thing I can say for the Nazis is their methods seemed to produce results," the man says, "I'm sorry, Erik."

Erik can only feel confusion as the man picks up the bell on his desk, ringing it.

A moment later, Ms. Denna leads her mother into the room. He grins, running over to her.

"Mama," he says, as she presses her fingers into his hair soothingly.

"Dr. Schmidt," she starts to say, but suddenly Ms. Denna's hand is on him, a grip like steel as she pulls him away from his mother.

"Mama!"

He looks between her and Ms. Denna, and then his eyes settle on Dr. Schmidt. He stops struggling in Ms. Denna's grip, allows himself to be pushed towards the desk as his eyes settle on the gun in Dr. Schmidt's hand.

"Here's what we're going to do, Erik," Dr. Schmidt says, leveling the gun at him. He can hear his mother murmuring behind him, glances at her to see his fear reflected in her eyes.

"I'm going to count to three. You don't move the coin, I pull the trigger."

Erik feels the fear envelop him, but it isn't until the doctor aims the gun at his mother that his blood starts to run cold.

"Understand?"

Erik lifts his hands up as the doctor begins to count. "One."

"Mama," he says, turning to look at her, because the coin is not moving, refuses to move.

"You can do it," she says, even as he watches Ms. Denna's grip tighten around her arm.

"Two."

He tries harder, willing it to move, begging it to, and looks to his mother again. "Everything is alright," she says, but the coin still will not move.

"Everything is alright," she says again, even as he begins to sweat with the effort.

"Everything is alright."

"Three," the doctor says, and there is a shot ─

His mother is on the ground, and Ms. Denna is frowning, wiping at the blood on her skirt, his mama's blood, his mama's blood.

The bell crumples on Dr. Schmidt's desk as Erik yells and Dr. Schmidt laughs and his mama is dead.

The room spins, and Dr. Schmidt claps him on the back, and _Everything is alright_, but his mama is dead, so he guesses that isn't true at all.

* * *

><p>He's led into an empty room. He's sure its empty because he can't hear anything, not the whisper of a thought or the heaviness of a hard drawn breath. He's cold.<p>

It's all Charles can do just to focus on his own breathing. The drug has made him tired, and his thoughts are fuzzy around the edges, but it's starting to fade slowly but surely. As long as he stays like this: still, eyes closed against the blindfold ─ as long as he's like this, he's fine.

After a moment where he's begin to relax into the silence of his own mind, the sound of footsteps approaching breaks through and then there are hands grabbing his shoulders, turning him.

_(There is so much anger.)_

He moans, a weak protest , and can't bring his body to move when the hands start sliding downwards, the warmth of them moving his arms. Wherever they touch he feels a tingle in his skin; the reaction catches him off guard, makes him take a ragged breath. _Not David_, he thinks because David's touch had made his skin crawl, made Charles sick with disgust. This wasn't like this ─ this was

Arousal. The only word for it.

He moans feeling his skin flush as he presses himself against the stranger (_and there, a thread of pain so visceral that it nearly brings him to his knees)_ touching him. The stranger grasps at his sides, squeezing tightly and Charles' eyes flicker open for a moment as the man surges forward. He can't see anything through the blindfold, but opening his eyes, he feels a wave of _so familiar_ and clings to that and the man's jacket, says "please" like it's the only word he knows.

He feels separated from his body, as if what he's doing is happening to someone else, like nestling in the mind of a stranger, experiencing it through their eyes.

He's forced backwards onto the couch, and the force of the fall jolts him (_he walks for what feels like hours, but finally, he's there)_. The man is on him again, and Charles just _wants_ so badly so when the stranger kisses him, he kisses back, tentatively because there is something _so _─ just beyond his thoughts, and he _can't_ hear so he's blind.

(_Can't trust, not him, and __**so much pain**__)_

Charles slides his hands along the man's stomach, tugging at the fabric of his shirt until he can't touch his skin (_so much blood, skin torn in ways that make him sick)_. He's panting, he realizes minutely, but the arousal is so strong, and Charles is too tired to do much else but give in to it.

He slides his hands lower, and the man makes a sound Charles recognizes as a growl. He hears the sound of a zipper being opened and a belt loosening but the man's hands are still on him (_the can moves, but its' so weak and he wishes he would __**just stop**__, wants to help him more than anything he's ever wanted)_.

His body feels so warm, inside and out, his mind feels like the chaotic void ─ can't hear, but his thoughts are loud enough.

The man shifts, and Charles says "please" again, trying to understand. They twist until their cocks are pressed together, hot skin against hot skin, and the man's hand is palming both of them roughly.

(_You're not alone, Erik, calm your mind, you're not alone, not anymore)_

"Erik, Erik, Erik," Charles says, the name a mantra on his lips.

Charles is _so close_, and then he's there, cumming, the man following suit moments later.

The man pulls away, and there is a brush of warm fingers against his forehead, before the man is pushing the blindfold off gently.

Charles keeps his eyes closed a moment longer, fighting the tiredness that washes over him. When he opens his eyes, the man is staring at him, and Charles stares back.

_Erik _─ Charles thinks, but still there is _something missing._ The puzzle has all the pieces, but he has no idea how they fit.

He coughs, blinking as everything in the room seems to change right before his eyes. When the coughing fit passes, he returns his gaze to the man ─ _Erik_ ─ and says, "Who the hell are you?"

Erik's expression shifts so suddenly that Charles almost convinces himself that he imagined the look of _knowing_ in Erik's eyes.

"I'm the man you owe $110 million. I own you," he says with such venom that Charles recoils, looking at him with big eyes.

"Who are you?" Charles says again, rubbing at his head as if that'll bring back his abilities.

It doesn't work, as it hasn't worked all night, and says, "I can't hear you."

"What?" Erik asks, giving him a confused look, but Charles doesn't respond, just closes his eyes and concentrates on the repetition of his breaths.

Erik says something, but Charles doesn't catch it, his eyes remaining closed.

(_an alley?)_

Erik pulls at his wrist, dragging him to his feet even though Charles says "no," fighting him. He struggles in Erik's grip, trying to get away, and says, "Not going with you."

Erik scoffs as he says, "I don't think you understand what 'I own you' means. You don't have a choice in this," but what Charles doesn't understand is him, who is he ─ _Erik._

Erik throws Charles his jacket, and Charles puts it on when he tells him to because he doesn't want to be out again in nothing but his skin.

He allows Erik to lead him to the door and into the hall where David's brother is waiting. Charles flinches at the sight of him, feeling David's mouth on his - _Erik tastes like smoke,_ he thinks, feeling Erik's hand on his cock , and David is forgotten.

David's brother and Erik are speaking, but Charles doesn't hear sinking himself into his own thoughts (_a blood covered hand, cracked and bruised, lean form against his, a wave of pain coursing through him but who's it is unknown)_

Erik's fingers trace along the metal band around his throat, and Charles hears, "...mutation suppressant...never hurts to be safe" - _more money than I can count, David's only getting 40%, shouldn't have touched._

David's brother leaves moments later, comes back with Charles' clothes.

"Get dressed," Erik demands, but David's brother is still there. When he does leave, Erik repeats the demand before Charles does so.

"Come on, Charles," Erik says, leading Erik out the door and to the elevators.

(_You're not alone, Erik_)

Charles closes his eyes because things are more understandable when the room isn't swirling like his thoughts.

When they reach Erik's car, and Erik puts him in it, Charles dozes off, doesn't wake up until suddenly, they are getting out the car and heading into a twelve story building Charles _knows_ but can't place.

His head hurts, and he leans on Erik for support on the elevator ride up.

(_Not a trained doctor, so much blood __ no hospitals, so much blood)_

His head is throbbing, worse than a migraine, feet marching across his skull back and forth, back and forth.

(_Someone like him, someone he's been looking for his whole life, known his whole life because the days are blended together now, everything up to this point, days with no meaning)_

They're in Erik's apartment now, and Charles is taking off his shoes, but he doesn't know why ─ and Charles head hurts, and he's so tired, and they're in Erik's bedroom and Charles is so tired and he thinks, _all I want to do is sleep_ ─

_(Erik, Erik, Erik)_

─ and he is falling into the bed.

* * *

><p><strong>What Charles dreams of is this:<strong>

He is five years old, and he is walking across the grass towards a man ─ his father, standing in the doorway of the mansion, waving Charles towards him.

The wind is blowing through the trees, and Charles stops to watch for a moment. There's something like, like something is calling for him ─ a warning ─ as he watches the leaves twist in the wind, ripping from the branches and blowing away.

He looks away, and suddenly the scene has changed.

He is five years old, and he is walking across the grass towards a man ─

and he is scared.

* * *

><p><strong>The dream shifts:<strong>

His thesis is the only thing on Charles' mind as he makes his way to back to his apartment. He's exhausted, and there are only two weeks ─ two weeks, where in the world has the time gone? ─ left until he has to present it and he's nervous, so very nervous.

He has to consciously push the thoughts of the people he passes on the street out of his head, something he doesn't usually struggle with, but the lack of sleep and the worry is getting to him.

He's going over the last ten pages of it in his head, picking out the phrases that need to be reworked and the areas he needs to add more to, when he's hit by a wave of _painloathinganger_ that has him nearly falling to his knees in the middle of a busy avenue at 11:30 at night.

It takes a moment for him to clear his mind, to separate the _(I don't want to die, can't go on, must go on)_ from himself.

He pushes her thoughts out of his head, and then presses his fingers to his forehead, closing his eyes as he searches out the source of his near incapacitation. He hasn't been affected by another mind that much since he was young and unable to control himself, and Charles had learned long ago that sometimes it's better to leave the pain alone, to not try to help, but he can't ─ not with this mind, _this man_.

He allows himself to enter the other man's mind:

_There's a man with a gun and it is pointed at his mother and she is bleeding, dead on the floor, there are knives and he can't control them as they cut into his flesh, Schmidt, Shaw, the man who laughs while Erik's mother bleeds on the floor, dead, his mother is reading to him, and Erik is safe _

Charles cuts Erik's mind from his own, struggling to regain control. He takes a deep, steadying breath, before delving in again, focusing his thoughts on Erik's location and nothing more. He sees through Erik's eyes, an alley with a flickering street light at its end, a street sign ─ 107th street and 8th avenue.

Thesis forgotten, Charles takes the 6 to 110th and Lexington, and then sprints towards 107th and 8th, each block seeming to last forever. He's miles away from his and Raven's apartment on 65th street, but the constant thrum of pain not his own pushes him forward.

He comes to a skidding halt in front of the alley where Erik is and there is a moment where Charles isn't _there_. He loses himself completely in Erik's mind until a pulse of pain thrusts him firmly back into the present.

He sees Erik for the first time, kneeling against one wall of the alley. He's covered in blood; in fact, there is blood everywhere, and Charles gets a flash of a memory, knows with an almost sickening sense of relief that not all of it is Erik's.

He steps closer, and as he does, the trash cans around him start to weakly shake, and Charles reaches into Erik's mind.

_Erik, calm your mind, please. I'm here to help you.__ You're not alone, Erik, calm your mind, you're not alone, not anymore_

He puts as much earnest honesty and good faith around the thought as he can, and when the trash cans continue to shake, he presses forward again, ignoring them, until he is kneeling down next to Erik. Erik stares at him with untrusting eyes. There is a moment where Charles is certain he's going to try and fight him, and he tenses, but then Erik gives in, visibly relaxing.

Erik closes his eyes, and when he opens them, he stares at Charles expectantly. There is still that distrust coming off his body in waves, but its cut through by a thread of hopefulness so strong, it leaves Charles almost breathless.

He stares back at Erik, realizing slowly that he hadn't put any thought into what he would do when he found Erik and now -

"We have to get you to a hospital," Charles says, taking out his cell. He jumps when it slides out of his hands, skidding into Erik's bloody palm and he'd be more excited if it wasn't for the strain in Erik's breath and the wave of panic and anger that Erik sends out.

Erik grits out, "No hospitals," and _of course not, _Charles thinks, cursing his own thoughtlessness.

He's not sure what to do - Erik needs medical attention that Charles isn't qualified to give, and after a moment, the answer comes to him.

"Can I have my phone back?"

Erik shoots him a distrustful look, and Charles continues, "I'm not calling a hospital, I promise. You have to trust me."

Erik lets out a noise that is almost a laugh, but he hands Charles the phone, and closes his eyes, leaning further against the wall.

Charles' fingers get smeared in blood as he dials the numbers but he ignores it, watching Erik out of the corner of his eyes. The phone rings, once, twice, three times and Charles sends the pulse of a thought ─ _Hank, pick up the phone please_ ─ and then there is a muffled "Hello" through the line.

"Hank!"

"Charles?" Hank says, sounding tired.

"Hank, I - I really need your help. Can you get down to 107th and 8th?"

There is a pause, and then Hank says, "Okay, okay! I'm coming. Please, calm down, professor, you're...scaring me."

Charles is confused for a moment, until he realizes that he's projecting his panic across the line, and he reels himself in as he says, "Sorry. Bring your kit."

"Ok."

Charles hangs up, turning his full attention back to Erik, who he realizes has passed out. He bends forward, pressing his fingers to Erik's temple. He is warm and wet with blood and sweat, but there's no fever. He's not in shock, but Charles worries all the same; most of the blood isn't his, but he has ─ three broken ribs, and the skin of his arms and stomach have been almost shredded, the cuts piling up on one another.

He waits what feels like a lifetime for Hank to arrive, and has almost reached his breaking point by the time the van parks in front of the alley. Hank steps out, still in his pajamas, and Charles sends him a thought of _over here, I'll bring him to the van, just be ready to drive us._

He takes Erik's hand in his, and Erik wakes up with a flash of panic that Charles quickly soothes, thinks at him, _calm your mind, Erik, trust me, trust me_, until Erik is asleep, a dead weight in Charles' arms.

He calls Hank over with a sharp mental pull, smiling in apology when Hank frowns at him, grumbling as he helps Charles lift Erik carefully into the van. Charles is slightly surprised at how calm Hank is, and then slaps a hand to his head. He's projecting again, subconsciously willing Hank to calm, and he pauses before he releases Hank from the projection ─ perhaps its better if Hank isn't freaking out while he stitches Erik up.

"Charles, are we going to your apartment?" Hank says after he's seated himself behind the wheel of the van, and Charles has secured him and Erik in the body of it.

"Yes. Be careful on the drive," he says, placing his hand over Erik's arm in a steadying motion. Erik's peaceful expression is a stark contrast to the violence of his body, and Charles doesn't resist the urge to slide the messy, bloody tendrils of hair out of Erik's face. Hank goes over a pot-hole in the street and Erik winces in his sleep, the sharp stab of pain in his side echoing in Charles'. Charles eases Erik's pain as easily as he would pick up a stray thought, and he doesn't question that, has long stopped wondering what is so _different_ about Erik.

Erik is _like_ Charles, an equal ─ it's cliché but it's as if Charles has been waiting for him his whole life, for that person to fill the void he hadn't even realized he had.

They arrive at Charles' apartment quickly, and as Charles and Hank lead Erik up to the elevator, he has to consciously convince the doorman and the desk clerk that it's a normal evening, that he's alone and not carrying a blood-soaked man through the lobby. He isn't sure how successful he is; the clerk watches him until the moment the elevator doors close shut, and Charles is growing tired, isn't sure he has the energy to peek into their minds.

_I'll do it in the morning_, he thinks as he and Hank half-carry Erik into the apartment and into Charles' bedroom, laying him down as carefully as possible on Charles' bed.

"Your sheets," Hank says, indicating the growing stains on them, and Charles shrugs tiredly, says, "I have more."

He turns to Hank, fully then, finally tearing his attention away from Erik fully. He has to make sure he's totally focused on Hank; he only has enough energy to make sure the procedure goes smoothly.

"Hank, I'm going to need you to stitch him up," Charles says.

Hank starts to panic at that, his subconscious breaking through Charles' induced calm ─ _What? Not a licensed doctor, who is he, why is he so abused, Charles, there is something wrong with Charles, what is going on _─

Charles pushes his influence on Hank again, willing him to calm, and when Hank is under control, he asks, "Can you stitch him?"

"Yeah, sure," he says, moving over to his medical kit. "Want me to start now?"

"Yes," Charles says, collapsing into the seat beside at his desk.

Hank's method is precise, methodical; in less than half-an-hour, he is done, and together he and Charles clean Erik up, change the sheets on Charles' bed, and lay Erik back in it so that he can rest.

Charles closes the door behind him when he leaves his bedroom, and his head swims. He is so exhausted, but there is still one last thing he has to do before he can rest.

He turns to Hank who is waiting expectantly in the hallway, and pressing his fingers to his temple, he says, "Go home, go to sleep, and when you wake up tomorrow this will all be just a barely remembered dream."

Hank nods, says, "Good night, Charles," and exits the apartment, closing Charles' door behind him.

Charles manages to make it to the living room couch before he collapses into a deep, dreamless sleep, and when he wakes up the next afternoon and enters his bedroom, Erik is gone, without a trace.

He tries to ignore the empty feeling he feels but it's hard.

He tries not to search for him every day that passes, but it's even harder.

* * *

><p><strong>What Erik remembers is this:<strong>

He's killed the mutant, the shifter's body is cooling in the basement of the building, and he's stumbled outside into the night. He hurts _everywhere_, and for a moment, he thinks he's going to make it to his car, but the pain hits him so hard that he collapses against the wall of the alley.

_Not now_, he thinks;he's so close ─ after tonight, after her death, he'll be in charge of the North East operations ─ that is, if he makes it past tonight.

And as his vision blurs, the pain making his head swim, he thinks, _that isn't going to happen_.

And he's _failed _ come so close to making Shaw pay, and he's going to die in an alley_._ He's failed, and he's _so alone_.

He blacks out and when he comes to, there is a man approaching him, with the bluest eyes Erik has ever seen, and Erik thinks _stay away_, but the man comes closer anyway, saying, "You're not alone, Erik, calm your mind, you're not alone, not anymore_,"_ and Erik wants to believe him so badly that he does. When the man leans down next to him, and Erik looks into his eyes, he feels a sense of hopefulness that is almost foreign, like a memory from long ago...

And when he wakes up again, the man is helping him stand, and leading him out of the alley and for a moment Erik panics, but the man's voice soothes him ─ _calm your mind, Erik, trust me_

_trust me_

And Erik wakes up in a bed that isn't his own. The sheets feel cool against his hot skin, and he realizes that he's been patched up, touches the stitches across his arms and abdomen in a kind of awe. He hasn't let a doctor come near him since he'd gained control of the scalpels and sent them flying into the men's stomachs, and he takes a quick glance around the room, trying to determine his surroundings.

He notices a wallet on the table by the bed, and he stands up gingerly, careful of his movements, the painful ache of each one causing him to grimace. He picks up the wallet, opening it.

_Charles F. Xavier_, the name on the driver's license reads and he stares at the picture of the man ─ _blue eyes, smiling_ ─ and he burns the name in his mind.

It's still night out Erik notices, glancing at the window beside the bed, and he calls his phone to him, watching it fly from a corner of the room shrouded in darkness. He feels for his jeans and his shirt, but they're not in the room and he slides open the dresser on the wall, and pulls out a pair of sweatpants.

It takes him a couple of frustrating moments to struggle into them, and when he finally does, he's exhausted, but he picks up his phone, speed dials Darwin.

Darwin picks up immediately, "Are you alright? We've been trying to reach you...is she dead?"

"Yes," Erik says, pausing, and then continues, "I need to ─ I'll be in the offices tomorrow."

"Are you hurt?" Darwin asks.

"I'll be fine. Just get me information on Charles F. Xavier. He's male, late twenties, blue eyes, brown hair," Erik says.

"Ok," Darwin says, sounding unsure. "Is that it?"

"Yeah."

He hangs up, and looks around the room again, before his eyes settle on the window. There are emergency stairs leading down the alleyway, and Erik knows he can manage them, can feel the steadiness of the metal.

He opens the window, and takes one last look around the room, his eyes settling on the closed door into the apartment. He has the urge to walk through them, to truly meet the man ─ Charles Xavier ─ that saved his life, but instead, he steps out the window onto the fire escape, struggles down to the alleyway, and takes the first car he sees.


	5. V

**V. **

The morning after everything goes to shit, Alex gets a call from Scott.

"Is Magneto there?" Scott asks, tone clipped.

Alex feels the resentment simmer beneath the surface of his mind, building, but he pushes it away, says, "No, what's this about?"

Scott sighs, disappointment in his tone as he says, "Alex, just put Magneto on the phone. This is important."

Alex snaps, the resentment quickly turning to anger. "I'm not lying. Magneto _is not_ available. He has other things to deal with that don't have to do with you."

He pauses, breathing deeply, willing his power back under his control. Erik would not appreciate it if Alex burned a hole in his office.

"And next time, call him instead. I'm not your messenger."

He hangs up the phone, and when Darwin comes in an hour later looking drained, his tie askew, slacks wrinkled, the first thing he says is, "You look about as shit as I feel."

"Shit," Darwin says, his brow wrinkling, "Yeah, that's the word for it. Any luck with Marko?"

Alex sighs, running a hand over his face, "No. Nothing. Once he reached Seattle, we lost his location. Not a trace."

Darwin blinks hard. "Erik is not going to be pleased."

"Well, here's hoping Xavier manages to cheer him up," Alex says, only half-joking. He's not anticipating Erik's anger with relish.

"Did Sean get back from reconnaissance at Shaw's place?" Darwin asks, taking a seat at the desk across from Alex's. He pulls out his laptop, beginning to type away. Alex looks down at his closed laptop, the papers spread around his desk, and feels like a slacker.

"No. He called ─ no change. Shaw must've called it quits for the night, and he is a late riser. Although, there's no telling what kind of information he has or what he's truly been up to; Azazel comes in fucking handy."

Darwin snorts, says, "You sound jealous."

Alex gives him a serious look. "I am jealous. Teleportation would be better than shooting lasers out my chest every time Scott calls."

He ignores the look Darwin gives him, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny. He looks down at the papers, rubs his eyes, and when he looks back up again, Darwin's focus has shifted back to his work, split between his laptop screen and his phone. Alex feels a surge of jealousy over Darwin's handle on the tech that Erik brings them. It's strange the way certain things excite Erik; the disparity between Erik and _Magneto_ is a little chilling at times, how the man who raves over an iPad like a little kid at Christmas can tear into a man so violently that it leaves a cleaning bill over $11000.

"We've got a problem," Alex says, glancing at one of the papers on the desk.

"Oh," Darwin says, quirking an eyebrow, "But we already have so many."

Alex chuckles roughly, runs his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, well, what's one more, right?"

"Look at this," he continues, thrusting the paper at Darwin.

It's almost horrifying to watch, the way his arm stretches, bones turning to rubber as Darwin half-shifts into Mr. Fantastic. Alex opens his mouth to say something, closes it. Darwin grabs the paper out of Alex's outstretched hand, and then his arm pulls back, turning to normal.

"I thought you said it only worked for life threatening situations," Alex says, tone accusing.

Darwin gives him a serious look. "The prospect of having to leave my seat right now _is_ life-threatening."

The answer doesn't satisfy Alex, but Darwin focuses his attention on the paper, ignoring Alex's snort of derision. After a moment, he says without looking up from the paper, "An article about politics in '_Geophysics Today'_? Do you subscribe to this?"

Alex feels his face grow hot, even though there's no judgment in Darwin's tone. "Just read the article."

"Congress to discuss issue of 'evolution' with a presentation by the respected General Stryker..."

Darwin trails off, and he and Alex share a look.

"Fuck," he says.

Alex nods and says, "Fuck ─ fuck is right."

* * *

><p>Raven grits her teeth. The sweat is starting to pool beneath the collar of her shirt, but she can't do anything about it.<p>

She carefully reaches over to the next incline, making sure she has a strong foothold over the pipe and swings herself upward, climbing steadily towards the door to Magneto, _Erik Lehnsherr's _apartment.

Getting into the building had been easy. For a man as paranoid as Magneto, his building security was certainly lax. The doormen barely glanced at her before letting her inside. Sure, Raven was wearing Erik's form at the time, but there should've been some form of identity check besides face recognition. Raven had slipped into the homes of minors with more security than that.

It was just another strike against Magneto, admittedly a small one next to the whole buying Charles from a slave auction ─ when Raven had gotten the call from Angel, who'd never sounded more apologetic, she had actually laughed. It had only been after 3 calls to Charles' cell, and then 2 to his office that Raven had believed Angel and the hours after that are a blur in Raven's mind of panicking and planning.

Raven grabs the next incline and lifts herself higher. One more lift, and she's standing in the doorway to Magneto's apartment. She pulls the doors open, a move that should leave her exhausted but Raven's running on a mixture of adrenaline and anger that gives her the energy needed to pull the doors apart.

She scans the entrance quickly, and then turns looking down into the elevator shaft. No movement from the elevator or in the entrance of the apartment, so she walks inside. She stops in the hallway, trying to decide which way to go.

- _Raven? Raven! Raven what are you_ -

"doing here?" Charles finishes, stepping out into the hallway. The sweatpants and t-shirt he's wearing are hanging off him, and there are dark bags under his eyes, but otherwise he looks okay. Raven runs over to him, pressing her hands to his shoulders.

"Raven, how did you? _What_ are you doing here?" Charles repeats, pressing his hands to her shoulders as well.

"I could explain," Raven says, pressing her forehead to Charles' forehead, "or we could leave."

"You're blue," Charles says wondrously, a glazed expression on his face as he looks her over.

Raven shrugs out of his grip and gives Charles a critical look. "Yes, I just had to ─ physical exertion is easier when I'm not thinking about how I look. But that's not the point at the moment. We _need _to go."

Charles' expression darkens, and he says, "That might not be the best idea."

"Why the hell not?" she asks, incredulity flooding her voice.

The sound of the elevator moving up the apartment building stops her, and she grabs Charles by the arm, thrusting him behind her.

"I can handle this, just be ready to go," she says.

"Oh, Raven," Charles says in a tone that makes Raven turn to look at him even as the elevator moves closer.

"You promised you wouldn't read my mind."

He shakes his head, says, "Until this moment, I never needed to read your mind to know what you were thinking. Raven, you ─ you don't need to do this."

"No, of course I don't need to save my brother from the slave-buying crime lord. Why would that be something I needed to do?"

Charles winces, looks like he's about to say something else, but the elevator pings, and Raven tenses, preparing her body for a fight.

A moment later, Magneto steps out of the elevator.


	6. VI

**VI.**

Erik wakes up to find that his furniture has rearranged itself in his room. When he looks up, he sees the metal band around Charles' neck has embedded itself in the wall. The metal is so warped that it's only identifiable by its makeup. Erik glances at Charles neck worriedly, but Charles is fine, passed out next to Erik on the bed.

When Erik sits up and stands, Charles doesn't stir. Erik is grateful for that ─ he's in no state for speaking, let alone explanations. The dream, he hasn't had that dream in a long time, and it's frustrating to admit how shaken it's left him. It's return is like a harbinger of doom, and Erik can't help but feel like he's being judged for his treatment of Charles.

It's not like he's _hurt_ Charles, but there is a little voice in his head that whispers, _and forcing him to become your slave isn't hurting him?_ He crushes the voice until its silent, but the slightly sick feeling remains.

He takes a step away from the bed, groans at the way his pants drag against his skin. He curses his inability to stay awake long enough to shower ─ the burn of the drag leaves his skin feeling raw and abused. He grabs some clothes out of his closet, glancing at Charles' still sleeping form as he does so. Charles' clothes are probably as disgusting as his, and he looks through his closet for something that might fit him. All he finds are a pair of slightly too big sweats and a t-shirt but that'll have to do.

Erik considers waking Charles up, but he still has no idea what he'd say to him, so he leaves him be and heads into the shower. When he gets out, Charles is still asleep so he leaves the clothes on the bedside table and exits to the kitchen. The pot of coffee is already done when he enters it, and in a repeat of the day before there are 3 new emails from Darwin. That his cell has no missed calls is a relief, and he opens the first email with only light trepidation.

The first one turns out to be a forward from Sean, which unsurprisingly states that his recon of Shaw has turned up nothing new. Darwin's other messages are frustratingly light on info as well: Cain is still untraceable, and there is a reminder about his meeting with the investment lawyers at ─

Erik curses as he notices the time. The meeting's supposed to start in twenty minutes and he needs to get downtown.

There is a sound from his room, and he snaps his head towards the door. Erik feels Charles' shifting in the metal foundations of the bed, but after a moment, Erik relaxes ─ Charles is not awake.

The meeting shouldn't take long, so Erik leaves Charles in the apartment to deal with later.

* * *

><p>The meeting goes longer than Erik expects it to, that by the end of it, he is so on edge that he ends up slamming his fist on the desk and telling the lawyer to "just handle it." It's already late afternoon, early evening by the time he gets back to his apartment building.<p>

As he enters the building, the doorman's gaze stays on him for longer than his usual cursory glance, but it doesn't click in Erik's head that something's up until he stares down the man at the desk and gets stared back at in return.

"What's going on?" Erik says, stopping before the desk.

The man continues to stare at him, gaping, until Erik pulls him out of his chair by the metal buttons at the collar of his shirt.

"I ─ I saw you return an hour ago," the man says, voice shaking.

"What?" Erik says, dropping him. "Show me."

The man gives him a look of incomprehension, and Erik, impatient, steps around the desk and pushes the man out of the way. He accesses the video feeds, and when he rewinds to an hour past, sure enough, he sees himself returning to the building and entering the elevator.

Cursing, Erik runs to the elevator, ignoring the doorman's questioning shout of "Sir."

He wills the elevator to move faster, his only thought to the shifter and Charles. _Shaw_, is his first and only suspect, and he wonders how he found out so soon.

_Frost_, he thinks with rage and the image of Charles ─

He's going to kill her and slowly, break her diamond skin until she is nothing but a fragile human ─ but the shifter first.

When he gets a floor away, he senses the shifter in the metal of the floor. The rage is blinding when he senses Charles there as well, and Erik resists the urge to wrap the floor around the shifter, pulling them down and crushing them beneath the weight of the metal; he isn't sure he has enough control to keep from hurting Charles as well.

He forces the doors open at his floor to see Charles and the shifter talking. The shifter tenses when he steps out of the elevator, snapping her head to the side with a force that sends her red hair flying over her shoulders. She is completely nude, not a hint of metal on her. Before Erik can think to send the metal pen in his pocket into her, Charles steps in front of her, wrapping his hand in hers.

"Erik, please stop this," Charles says, and his voice is everywhere, in Erik's ears, in his head, the pleading tone threading into Erik's very marrow.

Erik steps forward, but it feels like he is watching someone else make the motions. He wants to kill the girl, can still feel the _ragekillkill_ but it's like the urge is on another plane, inaccessible to him. There is a calm washing over him, and Erik fights it, fights it hard, but it is a losing battle.

"Who the hell are you?" he says with a bite that is exhausting.

The girl flinches, but then pulls away from Charles defiantly. Erik thinks _perfect opportunity_, fingers the pen in his pocket, but he can't use it, the _calm_ holding him back.

"Who the hell are you?" she shoots back at him angrily, "Who the hell are you to think that you can buy and _enslave_ my brother?"

_Brother?_ The situation changes almost instantly as he forgets Shaw and Frost. Brother, Charles' sister is a mutant, a shifter. He remembers the blonde girl, Raven Xavier, from the pictures, and suddenly he sees the resemblance. The form is the same, it's just the colouring and texture that has changed, and Erik briefly wonders why he didn't see it before. The new knowledge doesn't stop Erik's rage, but it lessens it, allowing him to think.

The little voice from earlier returns, whispering _hurting, hurting, hurting Charles_ ─ He can't kill her, and although she is a threat, he doesn't really want to. It would be a waste of a useful gift, and he already had leverage over her: Charles. Raven would be extremely useful.

The pen flies out of his coat, stopping just centimeters of shooting through the girl's throat. She doesn't flinch, but her yellow eyes zone in on it, the coolness of her expression wavering.

"The fact that he is your brother means nothing," Erik says, looking to Charles, "I paid 110 million for him, he is mine."

The girl's bravado returns at that, and she steps into the pen. Erik feels the weight of it pressing against her throat as she says, "He is _his_. I don't give a fuck what you paid those scumbags for him, he is _not_ yours, and he will be going home with me."

"You don't seem to understand the situation that you are in. I will kill you before you take another step," he says, pressing the pen that much deeper into her throat, almost enough to pierce her skin.

Erik pauses, smiles at her, "But I can understand the need to protect a loved one, so I will give you a chance to leave."

He moves the pen away from her throat, and for a moment, he is sure she is going to attack him, can see her body tensing in preparation. But then curiously, she relaxes, and says, "Okay."

She gives him a murderous look that puts Erik on edge. She does nothing however, just steps towards the elevator, waiting by it expectantly.

"I'm not climbing back down it," she says, her tone challenging, and Erik admires her boldness. Either she is incredibly stupid or incredibly confident. Judging by how easily she infiltrated his building, how skillfully she managed to make it up to his apartment, he decides that it's probably the latter.

He stares at her critically, and she stares right back at him as if he couldn't kill her any moment.

Instead, he opens the door to the elevator, watches as she steps inside. He thinks to tell her not to return, but can see by the look in her eyes that the threat would fall on deaf ears.

"See you soon," she says, and he knows that the cheeky words are directed at him even as she looks past him.

As the doors close, he turns, following the focus of her gaze to Charles who is still standing in the hall. His gaze is focused on the elevator doors, but when the elevator pings shut, his gaze turns to Erik, blue eyes fixing Erik to the floor.


	7. VII

**VII.**

The moment the doors close, Charles looks at Erik. It takes a moment for him to block out the rush of thoughts that hit him, his mind weakened by trying to keep Erik at bay and the drugs and restraint from last night. He touches his neck as he remembers the ball of metal resting in the wall, and marvels at the precision of Erik's control over metal. It's quite amazing.

"You can't leave," Erik says after a moment.

"I believe I made it clear that I chose to stay the moment I allowed Raven to walk out of here without me," Charles said slowly, smiling slightly at the look on Erik's face

"Chose?" Erik says, his tone mild, but his expression charged with disbelief, "You belong to me. You don't have a choice."

"If that's what you want to believe, Erik," Charles said softly.

_But you and I both know that if I asked you to let me leave, you would say yes_, Charles directs the thought into Erik's mind.

_Perhaps it isn't the best course of action_, he thinks, when moments later, Erik has stalked across the room. This time, he has a knife in hand, although he doesn't even need to move to wield it.

"Frost," he says, but before he can push the knife through Charles, Charles stops him. The effort leaves him breathless, but still, he pushes himself.

"Erik, I am not your enemy, and I am most certainly not Emma Frost. She is nowhere near my level," he says aloud, making sure Erik watches him.

After a moment, the pressure of controlling Erik's knife hand lessens, and Charles allows him to pull the knife away from his throat.

"You're a telepath as well," Erik says simply, his expression neutral, but his thoughts are less so.

_Invading my mind, what secrets have you taken, how far have you gone._

"It's hard," Charles says, "your mind ─ "

He pauses, running a hand through his hair.

"I've never felt a mind like yours before."

"Really?" Erik says dryly, masking the frenzy of his thoughts.

"It's quite unique, Erik. The first time ─ "

The memory that hits Charles is intense, but it's easier to handle than last night's shared dreams. He sees himself through Erik's eyes, standing over Erik, telling him to calm, _comforting _him.

He resists the urge to say, "I like that memory as well," focusing on calming Erik in the present instead.

"Erik, I know that you have no reason to trust me save for our encounter years ago, but I know that you want to, and I know that you would prefer not to brand me as your enemy."

Erik actually scoffs in response, his expression hard as he stares Charles down.

"What do you know about me?"

Charles can't contain the smile that passes over his face as he replies, "Everything."

Erik doesn't say anything in response, but his body relaxes. He walks into the kitchen, knife held loosely in his hand.

Charles isn't sure if he should follow. For the moment, he's too tired to access Erik's mind, but he's hungry, so he does, making sure that Erik hears his approach.

"I'm hungry," he says when Erik looks up at him from the knife rack he's standing over. Erik nods, but doesn't do anything else.

Charles isn't sure whether he should just open Erik's refrigerator, knows how Erik would normally react to that, but he also knows that he's different to Erik ─ as different as Erik is to him.

Charles watches Erik for a long moment as Erik stares across at him, expression unreadable. Charles isn't as skilled at reading emotions as he is at touching the minds of others, so he can't fathom what Erik is thinking.

Except, he almost can. It wasn't a lie when he told Erik that he knows everything about him. Charles does, has read every facet of Erik's mind. He's accessed every beautiful and horrifying memory, every feeling of pain and anger and love. Unknowingly, Erik laid his mind open for Charles, and Charles, greedily, took advantage. Charles doesn't regret it in the slightest.

So, he can summon a guess of what Erik is thinking, but Erik is as surprising as he is predictable. Charles may know everything about him, but he still can't be sure of anything with him.

Except...Charles knows Erik's attracted to him. Charles got over the oddness of being able to know who liked him, who wanted to "fuck him into the ground," long ago, so it doesn't bother him. What does make him start is that it isn't unwelcome. Not the sexual attraction nor the simple attraction of Charles' own mind. Charles isn't used to returning the attraction so fully. It's disconcerting in the way that despite everything that happened last night - the kidnapping, the sexual assault, the almost fucking on the couch of his kidnappers - and everything that happened today with Erik threatening to kill Raven, Charles still wants to share in Erik's mind as readily as he did when all he knew of Erik was the broken man he saved in the alleyway five years ago.

"Are you reading my mind now?" Erik says, breaking the silence.

"No," Charles replies, looking from Erik to the window - _bulletproof and telepath-proof_, the memory of the installation appearing without prompting -

"Actually, I'm so exhausted, I barely have the energy to remain standing let alone share in your thoughts. "

Erik's shifts his expression, looking at Charles unsurely, and then after a moment he says, "Go rest. I'll wake you when the food is ready."

Erik turns away from him, opening the fridge and pulling pans and dishes out of the cabinets with barely even a twitch of wrist. Charles watches Erik's back, notices and catalogues the way his shirt rides up on him just barely.

"Erik," Charles starts.

Erik doesn't stop, doesn't make any sign that he's heard, but Charles continues anyway, "Thank you."

He turns and leaves the kitchen, heading back to Erik's bedroom.

* * *

><p>When Charles is gone, Erik runs over the events of the past few minutes in his mind. He can't be sure that Charles isn't reading his mind, but it doesn't matter at this point because Charles knows everything<em>.<em>

_Everything._

Erik barely knows himself, has pushed so many things so far down that he isn't sure that he'll ever be able to reach them again, but Charles knows, and Erik isn't sure whether to be worried or comforted by this.

That Charles is a telepath is the last thing Erik expected. Charles is so...unlike Emma or the other telepath, the one he killed for Shaw ─ Charles _saved_ Erik.

And that's what makes him different, right?

When his mind touched Erik's ─ and now Erik knows what that feeling was ─ it was electrifying, painful, terrifying, _beautiful_. Erik fell to Charles like a moth to a flame, or perhaps it was the other way around.

Charles words ─ _'__I've never felt a mind like yours before.' 'It's quite unique,_ Erik - echo in his mind.

Erik liked the feeling, craved that feeling of Charles' mind against his own, a calm so unlike one Erik's felt since before he can remember, since before his mama was killed before his eyes. It's why he's followed Charles all these years.

But, the feeling today of Charles invading his mind, holding Erik down, back. He'd controlled Erik, and Erik would not be controlled. Not by Shaw nor Charles nor anyone.

They'd both learn that though, the hard way.

Erik slices the knife through onions, cutting them into thin pieces for the potatoes. He glances at the time. He has two hours before his meeting. Only two hours, but it's time enough.

Charles would be the first to learn.


	8. VIII

**VIII.**

It isn't until Charles finishes his meal that he realizes something is wrong. Erik has been quiet the whole time, and Charles still weakened by his previous forays into Erik's mind hasn't attempted entering it again.

He had tried to send Raven a message, but had been met with nothing but cold steel blocking his thoughts.

Erik serves him food in silence, and then goes to stand by the window. He leans against the pane, looking out of it as if in quiet contemplation. Charles supposes he is, considering the recent events. After a moment, Charles shifts his gaze back to his food and starts to eat. The food is unsurprisingly good ─ Erik taught himself to cook years ago out of necessity; you can't live in suspicion of everyone by ordering take out.

Charles is almost done when he feels a shifting in his chair. He looks up at Erik, who's still gazing out the window, but he's more tense than before.

Charles finishes quickly, worried that the chair might start melting around him in hand with Erik's unstable mood.

He moves to stand and take his dish to the sink when the chair springs to life, wrapping around his arms and legs in coils. Charles barely struggles, not keen on hurting himself trying to get out.

He tries to access Erik's mind, but there's something blocking him, either Erik or something else. Hank told him at one point that there was a metal that could perhaps block mutations. Hank had never had a chance to research it, and Charles wasn't interested; he and his mutation are one, not having it is unthinkable.

"Erik," Charles starts, but a slab of metal - his fork and knife - wrap around his mouth, effectively quieting him. Charles doesn't panic, not really, because he's sure Erik wouldn't kill him, but he's less curious about Erik's actions than he is worried.

A long moment of silence passes with Erik still standing with his back turned to Charles, and Charles restrained by his chair. Finally, Erik turns around, and steps over to Charles. He flicks out his hand, summoning a piece of metal.

Charles can't tell what it is at first, but then Erik opens his hands a little wider, and Charles really does start to panic. In his hands is the ball of metal that collared Charles the night before. Charles once again tries to access Erik's mind, directing his mind into Erik's, but to no avail.

"It's not going to work," Erik says softly.

There is coldness in his tone that makes Charles stop short.

Erik takes another step forward, casually running the ball through his hands. Charles knows the comfort Erik takes in the feel of metal beneath his fingers, could almost feel it as well when he'd first touched Erik's mind, but at the moment, the sight of Erik stroking the ball brings nothing but fear to his mind.

"See this piece of metal? It blocks out the powers of telepaths. I'm not sure exactly how it works, although I have a bit of an idea."

Erik pauses, and Charles thinks viciously, _I'm sure you do_, the momentary fear giving away to an emotion more along Erik's style.

"And that little show earlier Charles, the one where you said you had a choice, and you _chose_ to use your telepathy to control me ─"

Erik cuts himself short at that, giving Charles a look that he recognizes as _I've revealed too much, let too much show_ ─ and Charles now knows this is a test of power. Erik's trying to show him who the one in power is here.

Charles relaxes some because Erik's already underestimated him once, and although Charles revealed too much earlier comparing himself to the rather strong Emma Frost, perhaps he could convince him of that again.

"And that's not going to work either, Charles. I already know what you're capable of."

If Charles hadn't been into Erik's mind, he might think there was more than one telepath in the room.

But that's forgetting that Erik is skilled at reading body language, had to learn because of Shaw.

_Shaw_.

Thinking of the man relaxes Charles even more because he can direct his anger at someone else. It's odd, having such feelings for a man he's never met. But he's been in Erik's mind, felt at least somewhat of what Erik's felt, and that's enough for him to feel the same hatred towards the man that Erik feels.

He doesn't realize he's looking down until he looks up to see Erik watching him with an expression of calculating curiosity.

" Now pay attention, Charles, I'm only going to say this once."

Erik's looking at him with the same expression he wore when he met the banker in Paris that stole 1.5 million dollars from him. The look snaps Charles back into the moment, and he focuses on Erik.

" What I'm going to do is this. I am going collar you, and if you're good, I'll take it off."

The panic Charles had been keeping at bay with his anger finally takes over, and he struggles a bit as Erik stalks towards him, grinning like a predator moving in for the kill.

"This is for your own good, Charles," Erik says, placing one hand on Charles' shoulder. "It'll temper that ridiculous arrogance of yours. You'll learn that invading the minds of others has a cost."

Erik warps the ball of metal in his hand until it's shaped into a thin loop. It could almost be mistaken for a chain necklace save for the fact that when Erik puts it on him, the metal is sealed shut, a perfect, unbroken circle around Charles' throat.

Erik then releases the bindings around his arms, legs, and mouth with a crooked finger, and the chair returns to its normal state. Charles falls back against the chair, panting harshly. Not even the touch of Erik's mind against his, he feels nothing. He fights back the urge to cry, instead gazing at Erik with a look of contempt.

"Everything has a cost, Charles. And yours is 110 million."

Later, when Erik has directed him to the living room that houses one couch, a 72 inch flat screen, and nothing else, Charles' anger begins to dissipate.

He can forgive Erik for even this.

In that first moment of not being able to access any mind but his own, he'd felt nothing but a hatred for Erik so deep that it made bile rise in his throat. But now, staring at the sparseness of the room, the lack of anything warm, Charles remembers that Erik is broken.

And all broken things can be fixed.

Charles would just have to work to do that, even if it meant obeying Erik's every command, letting Erik believe he's the one in control. And he could have fun with it, too. He knows that sometimes he's the most naive man on the planet; Raven's told him it often enough that it's sunk in. Yet, that doesn't mean he's stupid. Or innocent for that matter, though Erik seems to think so, though Charles is sure that he's starting to realize that isn't true.

Erik couldn't even begin to fathom the half of it. Charles runs his fingers along the silver collar on his throat, remembering some of his university exploits. Oxford was a time in his life that he'd explored many, many things, although, no one but he would ever know.

Charles smiled to himself. _Oh yes, Erik couldn't even begin to fathom the half of it._

Erik chooses that moment to enter the room, and when he sees that Charles has noticed him, crooks a finger and says, "Come."

Charles resists the urge to roll his eyes. He decides to test Erik, waiting on the couch to see how much give he had.

None at all it seemed when less than twenty seconds after Erik first issued his command, there's a tugging on Charles, pulling him to his feet against his will.

"Alright," Charles says, and the tugging stops. Erik is smirking at him again, and Charles chooses to just obey, stepping towards him.

"May I ask where we're going, or is this just going to be a surprise, master?"

Erik laughs at that, and says, "Master. I like the sound of that," although the laugh is hard, and the words cold.

Erik looks back at him as they stand in the elevator, an unreadable expression on his face.

Charles doesn't say anything, and Erik doesn't either. They exit the elevator in silence, Charles trailing behind him, and a car exuding expensiveness pulls up, driverless, to the front of the building.

Charles knows that Erik is quite capable of doing that, but it's still amazing to see it with his own eyes and not in his mind's eye. Though the experience is lacking in his inability to use all his senses. The collar has taken a part of him that he's almost empty without.

"I like your suit," Charles says after they've gotten into the car, adding as an afterthought, "And the car."

Erik doesn't quite grunt, but it's a close thing, "We're going to my offices. I'm sure you know where they're located."

Charles nods, because it's information he'd only ascertained recently. If he'd known years ago, perhaps he wouldn't be in this situation with a mutation blocking collar around his neck, owing 100 million to the first person who Charles ever felt could be his equal. Or perhaps he would be. If he'd known years ago...

Well, Charles is a telepath, not a seer.

* * *

><p>It seems like nothing these days is working out. When Erik enters the building, Charles trailing behind with some light prodding by Erik in the form of tugging on the metal in his jeans, Darwin's waiting at the door.<p>

"I've been trying to call you for three hours," Darwin says, gaze switching from Erik to Charles and remaining there.

"My phone was off," Erik says by way of explanation, though he doesn't owe him one. However, Darwin has an expression on his face like everything's fucked up and Erik fucked him over. It isn't an expression Darwin usually pulls out, so Erik is slightly worried by why Darwin's been calling him for three hours.

"You have a guest," Darwin says, "They're in your guest rooms on floor 2."

Erik starts at that, cursing under his breath. Shaw, fucking Shaw, and probably Frost and Azazel as well.

"Fuck," he says because there's only reason why they're here. They've heard about Charles.

"Well, I won't keep them waiting then," Erik says, gritting his teeth. "Come on, Charles."

"Something's wrong," Charles says, as they walk through the halls, towards the stairs.

"Really." Erik says, because he doesn't have time for this. "Charles, don't let them know. That's an order."

Charles doesn't ask him to explain which Erik is silently grateful for. They climb the stairs together, Charles following without any prodding. Erik straightens his tie before he exits onto the floor. Looking disheveled in front of Shaw is out of the question.

He enters the room without knocking. Shaw looks up at him from the leather couch he's lounging on next to Frost. She smiles coldly at him, and he turns to Shaw in response.

"What are you doing here?"

"Erik, no time for pleasantries. Always going right to business. It's not good for you, you know," Shaw says.

His gaze slides from Erik to Charles, and he continues," I wanted to check out your latest acquisition. A little different from your usual fare, isn't he?"

Erik doesn't miss the steel in Shaw's voice. He takes a breath to dispel the rage, and says, "Perhaps. Why are you interested?"

Shaw rolls his eyes, but then breaks out into a laugh. When he recovers himself, he says, "I sent Janos to acquire the man he turned over to the Krasinkis for Marko's payment, and he comes back telling me that you outbid him with an 100 million payout and that you ripped out one of David's fillings. Why wouldn't I be interested?"

Erik can feel the way Charles stiffens at his words in the metal of his collar, and knows it's time to cut the meeting short.

"That's all you came by for, so you've seen him, you're done."

The _leave_ goes unsaid, but Shaw doesn't miss it and neither does Frost as she says, "Hasn't anyone ever taught you any manners, Erik?"

She turns to Sebastian and continues, "You're falling down on the job."

Shaw laughs and Frost turns her gaze back to Erik. "It's curious...my powers don't work in here. Why would that be, Erik?"

"You're not the only telepath around, Frost, nor are you the most powerful," he says, smirking when his words wipe the smug expression off her face. Telepath proofing all his buildings was worth it if only for that.

Shaw sighs, and says, "You two never get along. I hate watching mommy and daddy fight, so the little missus and I are going to skedaddle."

Shaw stands, taking Frost's hand in his, and she stands graciously and Erik resists the urge to scoff at the sight only barely.

Shaw walks to Erik, patting him on the shoulder as he passes. "Be good, Erik. I'll see you soon."

"And you too, I'm sure," he says, making Erik turn to watch him pat Charles on the shoulder, hand lingering longer than necessary. Erik nearly growls, tempered only by his need to not show Shaw any weakness.

They exit, and Erik doesn't bother to escort them out; Darwin will do it.

After they're gone, Erik turns to Charles who's looking at him with curiosity.

"Shaw wanted me, and it was his man that drugged me and turned me over to that auction."

Erik nods because he's not sure what Charles wants him to say. Erik finds that around Charles, he's always unsure and it makes him grimace; he needed to regain control. His gaze draws to the collar around Charles' neck at the thought.

Charles smiles, causing Erik to look back into his face, and he finds himself caught again in the blue of Charles' eyes. He shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts that begin to crowd his mind. _Later._

Charles' smile widens, and Erik finally breaks, asks, "What?"

Charles stretches his hands out before him plaintively and says, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you just complimented me."

He laughs at his own words, and Erik can feel himself turning red, but not out of embarrassment.

_Later._


	9. IX

**IX.**

Alex glances up from his magazine when he hears someone approaching. He's been rereading the piece about General Stryker's presentation on the "issue" of evolution in an attempt to alleviate some of his _oh-shit-things-are-about-to-go-to-hell_ feelings to no avail. The sound of heels on steel floor, though, makes him straighten in his seat and put the magazine aside; it can only mean one person, and where one goes the other is sure to be.

Everything about his life is fucked it seems, _everything._

Darwin enters the room followed by, as Alex rightly guessed, Shaw and Emma. As usual, Emma looks like an ice queen, covered in white from head to toe save for the area not covered by her boots and skirt or her top. Alex looks away quickly when she notices him watching her because if she thinks he's checking her out...Alex is keen on not being a vegetable, thank you very much.

He looks over to Darwin instead, who's giving him a look that can only mean _don't say anything stupid_, but before Alex has a chance to disobey him, Shaw walks over to Alex, picking up his discarded Geophysics Today.

"I didn't know you had an interest in rocks, Mr. Summers," Shaw says, and Alex pushes back the "Geophysics isn't just rocks" response that threatens to spill out his mouth. Darwin's still giving him the look.

"Or politics," Shaw continues, flipping through to the article on Stryker.

"Stryker is an old friend. Whatever he's going to say is sure to be interesting."

Shaw puts the magazine down, and turns his attention back to Emma. "I think it's time to go, don't you? We have dinner to get ready for, don't we?"

Emma smiles at him, the warmth on her face belying her usual coldness. Alex is so very grateful for Erik's telepath blocking building because Emma would probably have killed him twice over at this point. He's never really mastered the whole closing your mind trick; it's hard to do so when you're focusing all the time on not burning down your apartment accidently.

Emma whistles, a long and high note, and a moment later, Azazel appears. A moment after that, Azazel carries off Emma and Shaw in a puff of black smoke.

Alex releases the tension he doesn't realize he's been holding, and stretches his feet out under his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sean is going to be in so much shit," Alex says as Darwin slips into the desk next to his.

"I already told him not to come back to the office for a while, at least until Erik's not feeling homicidal. He's at the jewelers, trying to help Petrelli locate the missing shipment of rubies," Darwin says, stretching his arms out over his head.

Alex finds himself staring at Darwin a moment too long, and turns away, throwing the magazine into the pile of papers to get rid of. Knowing that Shaw and Stryker are old friends leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"We should research Stryker. Magneto's going to tell us to do it anyway," Alex says, booting up his laptop.

"You're right," Darwin says, pausing for a moment before continuing, "Xavier's here, you know."

"Really? In the flesh?" Alex says, chuckling. He knows the thought shouldn't make him laugh but Magneto's obsession is amusing in a way that Alex would never admit because Magneto would kill him.

It's scary how many homicidal people he hangs around. At least he's certain Armando wouldn't kill him for just speaking his mind or just _thinking_. Alex would've been dead after the first time they went drinking together if he did.

"Yep, so." Darwin gives him the same look he gave him earlier, and Alex nods, saluting him sharply.

Darwin gives him another look that says "you're stupid," and because Alex is sometimes more childish than Sean, he sticks his tongue out at him.

"Oh god," Darwin says aloud, laughing and Alex doesn't analyze why the sound brightens up the crappiness of the day, is just grateful that it does it at all.

They work in silence after that until Erik enters the room. Usually they don't have any kind of warning, Erik walks without making a sound most of the time. Sean swears it's because he floats, and though Alex doesn't agree, he wouldn't be surprised if Erik could do that. He's seen Erik cut a hitman to shreds using just a zipper, floating doesn't seem too out of the realm of possibility.

Magneto doesn't make noise as he walks, but the sound of footsteps is unmistakable, and Sean is supposed to be at Petrelli's so there's only one explanation: Erik and Xavier are coming.

Alex puts his attention on his work because Erik is unpredictable, and he's just met with Shaw ─ in his own building and without any warning ─ so he's probably pissed as well. Alex _does not_ want his attention.

"Where's Sean?" Magneto asks when he enters the room.

Alex lets Darwin take that one ─ Erik is usually less caustic to him. Instead, he glances at Xavier curiously. He's shorter and less professor-like than he looks in the photos, although that could be because he's wearing Erik's clothes which are two sizes too big and three decades younger. And he's wearing a collar, which makes Alex raise a brow in "what in the hell, I did not need to know Magneto was into that." Despite that and his 100 million dollar debt, Xavier looks calm, almost satisfied. Alex wonders if he knows about Erik's obsession, and decides he's better off not knowing. He's not that interested in Erik's fucked up love life. He turns away when Xavier gaze catches his because Magneto is possessive.

"He's at Petrelli's now dealing with the missing rubies. He tried to do recon on Shaw, but Azazel made that impossible. He didn't even know Shaw was here until I texted him."

Instead of the anger Alex expects, Erik just sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He gives Xavier a fleeting look, a longing expression on his face that Alex almost misses and mostly wishes he had because he _really_ does not want to know about Erik's love life.

"Have you found Marko yet?" Erik asks, and Alex decides to give Darwin a break, replies, "No, we lost him in Seattle. We're still waiting for the Hunter to see if she can pick up his trail."

"Also," he adds, "Scott called, said it was something important but refused to tell me. Wants to speak to you."

To his surprise, Xavier is the one who responds. "You're looking for Cain?"

He pauses laughing, and then continues, "He really isn't worth your time."

Darwin and Alex share a look.

Erik, now staring at Xavier with a look that Alex doesn't even want to fathom, says without shifting his gaze, "Tell Scott I'll call him back later, make sure Sean doesn't fuck up with Petrelli, and I'm going home. Don't call unless it's an emergency, and even if it is, deal with it."

Alex nods, doesn't add the cheeky "Yes, sir," he normally would because Erik is walking out the room, Xavier following behind. Before he disappears, Xavier waves at them, says, "It was nice to meet you."

After they're gone, Alex turns to Darwin, and says, "What the fuck, man?"

All Darwin says is, "I know, I know."

* * *

><p>Raven waits for Angel on her living room sofa, her favourite spot in Angel's apartment. She fingers her new necklace and thinks about calling Ororo up to help with her Charles emergency. Raven's already put her in a risky position though, so she just sits and waits for Angel.<p>

She wants to call Charles an idiot, wants to be angry with him, but all she can think is _Charles would rather be with him than you._ It's been a long time since she's felt anything but annoyance over Charles' obliviousness, but now it hurts because it's Magneto.

_It must be mutation infatuation_, she thinks because nothing else would make him so blind to Magneto's obvious homicidal insanity for him to tell her, _Raven he needs my help. Trust me, I won't be in harm's way. Erik isn't like that._

Erik isn't like that - _really Charles? Because he beat Cain to a pulp over 10 grand when he has over 100 million to dish out for you_.

_Raven, I need you to trust me._

Raven had because Erik might've killed her, but Charles had stopped him with barely a thought. Raven knows Charles well enough to know when he uses his power, and with Erik, he'd done just enough to stop him from killing her the moment he first laid eyes on her. After that, however, in his own words it was just his sympathy for Charles that saved her.

Raven had underestimated Magneto that time, but now, she's going to use this new information against him. She's going to use _Charles_ against him.

It's not going to be easy, she knows, but Charles is her brother, and if she doesn't save him from himself, who else will?


	10. X

**X.**

'Tell Scott I'll call him back later,' means that in the car on his way back to his apartment, Erik calls Scott up because he doesn't want to talk to Charles. As it is, he feels Charles' eyes on him the entire phone call.

"Magneto, nice of you to call me back."

"Why'd you call me, Cyclops?" Erik asks, too distracted for pleasantries.

He can almost hear Scott bristling at the name on the other side of the line, and then Scott responds, tone clipped, "A man you're looking for passed through here. A Cain Marko. He took a flight to South Korea. Just thought you'd want to know."

"South Korea? How did he slip past my men in Seattle? _Our_ men?" Erik asks, frustration colouring his voice.

"I don't know, I really don't. But I'm going to find out. I put the Hunter on this you know, and it took her over 12 hours to even find that. It's not like her at all," Scott says, sounding as frustrated as Erik.

Erik silently agrees with Scott's assessment of the situation, and replies, "I'll just have to put my men on why he might go to South Korea. Thanks for the heads up."

"Not a problem. Have you spoken to Shaw recently? I know he's over there with you," Scott says right before Erik hangs up the phone.

A car speeds by them, nearly colliding with Erik's Mercedes, and he puts both hands on the wheel to steady himself, shifts the phone so that its floating comfortably near his ear.

"Yes," he says, annoyed by the question though he knows Scott wouldn't ask him unless it was important. Too nice for his own good, it's a wonder he's made it this far working for Shaw.

"Did he mention this meeting with all the heads of operations? Because Azazel came by said for me to be in New York on November 13th."

Erik curses says, "He didn't bother to tell me the date, but he mentioned it. We're meeting to discuss a new market."

"A new market? But we're in everything already," Scott says with incredulity.

"Knowing Shaw," and Erik knows Shaw very well, knows his methods better than he knows himself, "he's found another way to make money."

"You're probably right," Scott says, sounding tired, "I'll see what I can do on my end about Marko, let you know if I come up with anything."

"Thanks," Erik says because he really is grateful, "Also, your brother will be calling you soon. Tell him everything about Marko you know."

Erik remembers then that Scott isn't always as nice as he seems, and although he isn't usually one for allowing himself to show an emotion other than anger, Alex is a good worker, if a little insubordinate at times (this sentence sounds awkward. Maybe split it up or add more context). So, Erik adds, "And don't be an asshole. I don't want him exploding my office again, and if he does, you're footing the bill."

Scott grunts, then hangs up, and Erik does the same. He still feels Charles' eyes on him, and he shifts slightly in his seat, says, "What?"

"Cain's in South Korea? We went there as children, I wonder why he would go back," Charles says in a considering tone.

Erik files that piece of information away without responding to Charles' questioning look.

Just Charles voice seems to throw him off balance, and Erik shifts in his seat, willing Charles to be quiet. There's too much at stake.

He can't help glancing at Charles through the front mirror though. Charles is frowning at him, mouth pursed in a thin line, and Erik's glad for that. It means he has the upper hand. Not that he didn't have it to begin with; without his powers, Charles is nothing but a human. An exceptionally intelligent and infuriating one, but a human nonetheless. He has no power over Erik, none.

Erik imagines that if he keeps telling himself that it might become true. He's just going to have to make it so, one step at a time.

The first step is already in progress. They've already pulled up to his apartment, and before Charles has a chance to do it himself, Erik's already pulling him out of the car and leading him to the elevator. He doesn't say anything to him on their ride up, nor does he say anything to him when they reach the apartment.

Erik's patient, learned how to wait lying on Shaw's operating table, watching as the knife slowly cut into his skin, the pain more excruciating than if it had happened fast. Waiting for the moment Shaw said it was okay for him to remove it from his skin. Shaw had forced him to turn his pain and anger into a finely tuned weapon that made waiting easy.

Erik learned patience the hard way, so the silence is easy.

Charles would be the first one to break, he'd come to Erik soon enough; his arrogance wouldn't let him not. And Erik finds that he's right when half an hour after entering the apartment, Charles finds him in his office.

"You're ignoring me," Charles says. He takes another step forward into the office and continues, "What do you want Erik? I know that you seem to believe I'm out to get you, but I'm really not, Erik. I'll pay off your money, but please, I'm not a dog. Can we get rid of the collar?"

Erik grins at him, all teeth, and says, "I like it on you."

Charles closes his eyes for a long moment, and then opens them, sighing. "Erik, this isn't what you want. What do you want?"

Those are the words that finally make Erik lose his patience, and he stands up from his desk, pulling Charles to the floor by the collar on his throat, and says, "I think this is exactly what I want. You may know everything about me, but you don't know me. I'm not some pet you can toy with Charles; I'm not something you can control."

He doesn't know where the words come from, but they're out there. When Charles tries to say something in response, Erik tightens the collar around his throat, effectively choking him. The feeling of the metal against Charles skin is enough to make him hard.

He forces himself to push back the pained feeling that spreads when he sees Charles' panicked face, but he does loosen up the tightness of the collar. Charles coughs when he does, desperately catching his breath. Erik doesn't know what to do now that he's done this, so he just steps past him. He doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing.

He heads to his bedroom, feeling a coldness running down his spine. _Erik, this isn't what you want. What do you want?_ repeating through his mind, and he doesn't know what to say to that because Erik's unsure of what he wants. He's wanted Charles for so long, in a way that he can't even begin to identify. Lust is something that Erik's familiar with, but the other feelings, the longing to just..._be_ with Charles, have him whisper in his mind, Erik doesn't know what it means at all.

All he knows right now is that watching Charles kneel before him on the floor turns him on, and he heads to his shower. He closes the door behind him, not bothering to lock it because he's not worried that Charles is going to walk in on him, and strips down.

For a moment, he looks at himself in the mirror, staring at the thin scars along his body. He can identify each and every one of them, knows the weight of the metals that cut into his flesh, the shape, and the composition better than he knows himself, catalogues each of them as reasons why he's the person he is.

_I know everything about you._

Does Charles know this? Does he know that Erik spends nights just counting the ways he could kill Shaw. Slowly or quickly. Painfully or painless. Does he know that he and Shaw are the only people he ever dreams about, that he can't remember a time where Shaw's face didn't haunt his nightmares or Charles' his dreams?

"Do you really know everything about me, Charles?"

He imagines that Charles thinks he's something worth saving. He's saved Erik once, what's once more?

The thought makes Erik scoff. He isn't worth saving any more than Shaw is. But he has a mission, and he's going to live long enough to see it through, and if Charles gets in his way, then ─

Charles _won't_ stop him.

Erik steps in the shower, allowing the warm spray of the water to anchor him before he grabs himself in hand and begins to stroke. The only image that comes to mind is Charles choking under the collar around his neck, and Erik feels it again, the weight of the metal against skin, its warmth heating the metal around it.

"Was that some kind of test?"

Charles voice is close, closer than it ought to be. Erik blinks, once, twice releasing his grip and staring at Charles who's standing outside of the shower, rubbing his neck casually.

"If you really wanted to make me submit, all you had to do was ask," Charles says. The sultry tone in his voice is unmistakable, and Erik is harder than he was moments before, but he's more bewildered than anything. It wasn't anything Charles was supposed to enjoy, he's supposed to be angry, feel weak, feel something other than...arousal. Erik was supposed to be teaching him something, wasn't he?

"Do you have a library?" Charles asks, as if he didn't just proposition Erik, as if Erik isn't standing in a shower, cock hard.

"What?"

"Do you have a library? I'm rather bored and I'd be up for reading something, unless you have something else in mind?" Charles says, again with the sultry tone, and Erik isn't sure how to react, finds himself speaking before he thinks.

"It's in the room past my office," Erik says, at least stopping himself from adding, "Now please leave."

"Alright, thanks," Charles says, smiling at him in a way that he shouldn't be. (maybe mention that this is only after Charles left, I don't see Erik showing this weakness while Charles is in the room) Erik groans, pressing his face to the wall of his shower. The water falls down his back, but not even the warmth of it takes away how shaken he feels.

It's only been a day, and he's already losing control, slipping, and he isn't sure how he's going to gain it back.

* * *

><p>It goes on like this for a week.<p>

Erik will go in to the office, deal with the business and leave Charles at his house. There's no way for him to leave, and Erik's keeping tabs on Raven, who's now staying with her friend, Angel Salvadore, a makeup artist at the Krasinki auction house. Sean was so proud that he'd figured that out that Erik didn't have the heart to break him a new one over fucking up the Shaw recon. Dealing with Charles was enough of a headache without dealing with a sulky Sean.

And Charles.

Erik's glad for the reprieve that going to the office gives him because at his apartment, Charles is ─ one moment, he's quiet and the next he's propositioning Erik like he's some paid whore. Always,_ "What do you want, Erik?"_ and a smile like he knows something Erik doesn't. It leaves Erik always on edge, and he knows that Darwin and Alex are walking on tiptoes around him because he rarely ever sees them except for when they have something to report. Nowadays that isn't very often.

By the end of a week of this, Erik has had enough. Obviously, _quite obviously_, his first lesson didn't sink in, so Erik is going to have to try something else. Anything else at this point would be better than doing nothing because he's tired of being walked in on while he's jerking himself off, and the fact that he's losing control even with Charles cut off from his powers is unsettling.

Erik hasn't fought so hard to gain control since he first started fighting back against Shaw. The comparison disturbs him.

_What do you want? _Charles words echo in his mind, and Erik thinks that now he might have an answer.

* * *

><p>It starts out simply, Charles' seduction. He layers it under a careful nonchalance that he knows will leave Erik confused. Erik doesn't react well to people being interested in anything more than sex, so Charles will ask him about a book that's been earmarked on Erik's bookshelf at the same time that he'll ask him "Do you need anything? I do still owe you, don't I?"<p>

Charles has no qualms about using sex to get what he wants and if it means allowing himself to play Erik's game, allowing himself not to break down and hit Erik over the restraint he's placed around his neck and his mind, then so be it.

One of the benefits of Erik only having one shower in his apartment is that on Monday, Charles walks in on Erik while he's in the shower yet again. He's jerking off, but this time, he's faster to stop when Charles enters. Again, Charles doesn't mention it, just says, "Are you almost done? I'd like to use the shower as well."

Erik doesn't respond for a long moment, and then he shoots Charles an uncertain glance and says, "I'll be out soon. Go find something else to do while you wait."

Tuesday, Charles interrupts Erik while he's working in his office. Charles has picked up a book of Edgar Allen Poe from Erik's bookshelves, one Erik, and consequently, Charles has read many times, and decides to seat himself in Erik's office. He can't help the heat that rises when he remembers kneeling before Erik because he's had worse done to him consensually, and Charles is not one to shy away from the more unconventional aspects of sex.

He does, however, use that against Erik, unbuttoning his borrowed shirt to a point that could be mistaken for just a consequence of the heat but also a subtle attempt at getting under Erik's skin. Erik might not have noticed that Charles was aroused during their encounter in his office, but Charles certainly noticed Erik's arousal.

Erik shoots Charles glances as he reads, periodically at first and then more rapid, and Charles responds by staying silent. After half an hour of this, Erik snaps, says, "What do you want Charles?" and Charles grins at him and responds, "Nothing, nothing at all."

Wednesday and Thursday are the same. Charles gets up around the same time as Erik and stumbles into his bedroom with barely a stitch of clothing on. On Wednesday, it's not intentional, he's just trying to get to the shower before Erik uses up all the hot water, one of his few indulgences. But Charles forgets that Erik is a light sleeper, so when he wakes up as Charles is trying to silently make his way to the bathroom, all Erik does is stare at him. It takes a full minute for Charles to notice he's awake, and he says apologetically, voice rough from misuse, "Shower." Erik just nods swiftly, and Charles walks to the bathroom, smiling to himself as he does because of the unmistakable tent under Erik's sheet.

Friday, Erik wakes up before Charles has the chance to catch him in his bedroom, so he waits until the afternoon, right before Erik usually returns to his apartment to take a late afternoon shower. Erik always comes into his bedroom to remove his tie and coat, so Charles times it perfectly, coming out in just a towel, just as Erik is hanging them up.

"What are you doing?" Erik asks, his voice coloured with surprise.

"Taking a shower. I didn't wake up until an hour ago. I was really exhausted."

Erik doesn't say anything after that, and Charles turns to leave, knowing that Erik's watching him all the way.

"What do you want, Erik?" he asks him, once, twice a day. Erik will stare at him and not respond, most of the time leaving Charles to his own devices. Charles doesn't move to follow him because he isn't keen on being chained by the metal of his chair again. Erik isn't one to take pushing his boundaries lightly, so Charles can only gain control back the one way Erik can't stop.

It's easy to use someone when you know exactly what they want. Charles has done it many times before, and it's always worked out. Erik will not be the exception.

By the end of the week, Charles is certain that Erik has reached his tipping point because when he returns home, he grins at Charles rather than avoiding him.

"Don't you have any idea of what to do with me? You've had me here for a week, and you haven't even mentioned the money you paid for me or the bond around my throat since you first collared me. Haven't I been good enough for you to remove it? _What do you want, Erik?_?"

"What do I want," Erik says, for the first time since Erik choked him in his office, "What I want is my money back. I want Cain Marko dead, and Shaw as well. I think the better question, Charles, is what do I need. Why don't you answer that one for me since you know me so well?"

Erik sounds angry, but Charles recognizes the uncertainty in his eyes, has seen it a few times before in Erik's memories.

"What you need, Erik, is to let go of control," Charles says, softly. He watches as Erik's shoulders sag, and for a moment, Charles is unsure himself. Then he realizes it's an invitation, and he walks up to Erik, and says, "I want you to take off my collar."

He places his hands on Erik's shoulders, noticing not for the first time, how much taller and thinner Erik is. There's muscle there in his arms, but it's a swimmer's build, not a body builder's.

Erik doesn't say a word as he presses his hands to Charles collar, just removes it. His fingers are rough against Charles throat as he strokes his hand along the bruise from where he choked him with the collar (too many pronouns in this sentence). It's mostly faded, but Erik's looking at it with an expression of disbelief. Charles wants to sink into his mind, see what he's seeing but Erik is unpredictable, and though Charles is sure of many things when it comes to him, he isn't sure how Erik would react to that.

"What do you want, Charles? What do you want from me?" Erik asks, removing his hands from Charles neck. "There's nothing I can give you."

"What I want doesn't matter. Not at the moment, at least. It's what you want that's important," Charles says, the words coming out genuinely because every word is the truth. Charles wants a lot of things. He wants to watch Erik writhe beneath him, wants to sink himself into Erik's mind and never let go, but it isn't as important as fixing Erik.

Nothing, really, is as important as that.

"Can I try something?" Charles says, wiggling his fingers near his head in an imitation of using his telepathy.

Erik nods as if he can't trust himself to speak, and Charles presses the fingers of one hand to his own head, pressing the fingers of other hand to Erik's. He doesn't need to do this, but he knows that his touch is comforting to Erik, and having him calm makes this much easier.

He scours through Erik's mind, exploring the crevices, jumping over memories of heartache and pain, searching through his fantasies until he finds the one he's looking for.

It's fuzzy, as if Erik tried to suppress it, which is highly likely, but Charles pulls at it, clarifies it until it's clear in Erik's mind. Erik's breath comes in short pants as he relives the fantasy.

Charles is holding Erik down by the wrists, even though he doesn't truly need to because underneath Charles hands are thin chains made of titanium. Charles knows because Erik's voice floats through his head, _shouldn't break, light weight enough not to bruise_.

Charles isn't completely naked, still in his pants and boxers, but Erik is and so uncovered, Erik looks fragile as if he might break at any second.

The fantasy is old, Charles knows, because his body doesn't look quite like his own, and Charles is talkative during sex, whereas here, he's completely silent.

Charles begins to shape the fantasy, changing the position and form of his body, starts saying, "It's okay, it's okay, just tell me if you need to stop and I will."

And then he's kissing Erik, but it doesn't last long. When Erik gets into it, starts to kiss back, Charles pulls away, leaning back so that he's straddling Erik's chest. The chains around Erik's wrists shake, and Charles can see that Erik's body has tensed. Charles reaches forward, running his fingers through Erik's hair, and whispers in his mind, _It's alright. Trust me, Erik. Trust me._

Suddenly, there's a collar around Erik's neck, the same one that Charles wore, although when Charles' leans forward to get a better look, there's a lock on the side ─ and now it makes sense why Erik could have telepathy blocking material built into his buildings without truly understanding the simple collar around Charles' neck.

_A mutation suppressant_, Charles thinks in the back of his mind, far away from the fantasy playing out at the forefront, _I should take it to Hank_.

Charles moves forward to run his finger over the collar, and then the fantasy cuts off because Erik's hand is gripping Charles' shoulder tightly, hard enough to bruise. Charles realizes they're both sweating and he places a hand over the one on his shoulder, willing Erik to loosen his grip.

Erik does, and then takes a step back from Charles, looking like an animal caught in a trap. Charles can't help picking up the nervous, panicked energy surrounding Erik, and he resists the urge to use his powers to comfort him. He's already done it enough today, and he isn't sure how Erik might react to Charles entering his mind again.

He takes a small step forward, and stops when Erik down at him with a resigned expression. The nervousness is still there, but the panic has dissipated to the point that Charles can barely feel it.

"Is that what I need Charles?" Erik asks, voice sounding hoarse.

Charles throat feels dry as well when he replies, "You tell me."

Erik doesn't say anything for a long moment, staring at the steel floor beneath their feet.

"I want ─ I need," Erik stops and then starts again, his voice stronger, "I need you to take me away from myself."

Charles nods, takes a step forward, and says, "Do you trust me?"

Erik's gaze flits from the wall then back to Charles, and finally he responds, "No."

Charles' smiles inwardly at the response, but he's careful to keep the gleeful tone out of his voice when he says, "You will."

Erik gives him a sharp look, and for a moment, Charles is hit with a rage so strong that it nearly knocks him off his feet. But the emotion disappears as quickly as it came, and Charles considers it a triumph when Erik says, "Okay."

* * *

><p>"You still owe me 110 million," Erik says the next day over a mostly silent breakfast.<p>

Charles sets down his cup of tea and looks at Erik. There's emotions bubbling underneath the surface but nothing that stands out, so he says, "And how am I to pay you off? I haven't been back to work in a week and a half. I know Raven's handled that already, but I don't see you letting me go back anytime soon."

Erik doesn't back down from the accusation, shrugging his shoulders and returning Charles look. "A professor's salary isn't that much. Nor is the money your father left you. I'll think of some way you can pay me back."

An image pops to the surface, and Charles catches it before it disappears, sealing it away for later use. "I'll keep you to that."

The look Erik gives him is hungry. Charles pretends he doesn't see it and returns to his tea.

Erik takes Charles to work with him for the first time since Shaw decided to show up out of the blue.

Erik is tense the whole car ride, can't help it when he knows that even though he's watching Shaw, Shaw's watching him too. The knowledge doesn't shake him, but it does make him more cautious. Knowing that Shaw's interested in Charles though, that makes Erik nervous. Shaw's creative with the things that interest him, and he doesn't tend to lose interest fast.

Erik's more sure than anything at the moment that Charles isn't as innocent as he pretends, but he's never dealt with something like Shaw. Erik has, and although Charles can see into his mind, it isn't the same as experiencing it. The kind of pain Shaw can inflict is just too intangible a feeling to take from mere memories.

When Erik looks over at him, Charles says, "Do you want me to?" wiggling his fingers by his head like he did the day before. For a moment, Erik thinks Charles is talking about what they did yesterday and he freezes at the wheel. Then he realizes Charles is _only_ talking about entering his mind.

"Why?" Erik says, because letting Charles in yesterday was hard enough. Doing it again today without good reason is out of the question.

"You're tense. I thought perhaps you might like some...comfort."

The double-edged meaning of the word does not get past Erik. Erik gives Charles a sharp look, closes his mind off like he does when Frost smiles at him from under her lashes, and says, "No."

* * *

><p>At his office, to Charles' surprise, Erik leaves Charles to his own devices. His only order: "Stay somewhere near my offices or Darwin, Alex, and Sean's."<p>

Charles nods, watches Erik walk into his office, and then sets off to find Darwin, Alex, and Sean. He's most interested in them, can deal with Erik when he's at home. He wants to thread his mind through theirs in person. It's difficult to use his telepathy in this office, with its telepathy proofed walls, but Charles broke through that barrier the first time he was here. It's easy once you know you can, although he was slow in the realizing.

He should've known the moment he saw the metal ball pressed into the wall or the moment he was able to enter Raven's mind without trouble, but afterthought is only a different way to say regret.

At least now he'll never be without his powers again.

"Hi," he says, when he enters their office. "I believe we met a week ago."

"Yeah," Alex says, although he's giving Charles a look like he has two heads..._Erik let him out again...does this mean he's going to be the new office fixture...weird, Erik's sex life on display._

Charles inwardly winces at the implication behind the boy's thoughts, but smiles at him in friendship. Alex's mind is a little strained from his worry over his powers, frayed at the edges with a red that burns slightly at the touch, but not difficult to access at all.

"No," says Sean, who's glaring at Charles, a look that says _Intruder_ better than even the boy's thoughts.

Charles smiles at him in turn, says, "I'm Charles Xavier. Nice to meet you."

The image of the young professor is easy to adopt. He extends his hand to Sean politely, a teacher greeting a new student.

That's the image Charles places in Sean's open mind. Sean bends to it easily, walks over to Charles, and says nervously, "Nice to meet you as well."

Sean shrugs at Alex's wide eyed look, but then looks back at Charles, says, "Did you need something? Does..._Erik_ need something?"

Charles laughs, and says, "Not at all, but I think you need something."

Sean gives him a strange look, thinks, _this guy is insane_. He's polite when he answers though, fear of Erik overpowering his actual feelings.

"Need what?"

Charles smiles, and says, "I'm a professor. I teach. What I'm going to teach you is how to control your powers."

Sean grins at him, immediately open to the idea despite _Erik is going to kill me._ Out of the corner of his eye, Charles sees Alex drop the paper he's holding on the desk, and he smiles.

All things considered, this is already going smoothly.

* * *

><p>Alex tries to work, but can't help but watch the spectacle, because Sean is actually <em>learning<em>. Xavier's only been here three hours and Sean's gotten a better hold on his powers than he's ever had. He's impressed but envious at the same time, because it's _Sean_ Xavier's chosen to help, not him, and though it can be argued that Sean is in more dire need of help than him, at least Sean doesn't have to worry about destroying his valuables in his sleep unless he snores.

Alex doesn't usually change his judgment of a person, but Xavier was quite unexpected before, now, after watching him with Sean, Alex really doesn't know what to think.

He watches as Xavier touches Sean's throat, says, "The voice is a muscle like any other. You can control it."

When Sean breaks a glass vase near Darwin's desk, Alex thanks God, once and then twice that the water only splashes on the floor and that the walls are soundproof. Erik would kill them if they broke any of the equipment, and then he'd bring them back to life so they could pay for it. Only Xavier would survive, honestly.

"This is amazing, your progress," the Professor says, just as Darwin walks in the room. He's dressed down like he's just returned from a trip, which makes sense because he's been up country since Saturday trying to deal with the border issues in Maine. One of their men was caught crossing the border illegally. Lucky for him, Darwin, not Erik, was the one to answer the call, and even luckier for him, he didn't have any contraband or goods on him.

Still, it wasn't like their men to get caught on a simple border crossing, so Darwin had to go up there in person to make sure nothing else was going on. Alex isn't going to lie and say that he didn't miss him. As much as he enjoys Sean's company, it's nice to have Darwin's more level head around. Besides, he misses not having to speak aloud all the time.

"His progress? Hello, Charles," Darwin says, coming to sit at his desk. He shakes his hand at Alex in hello, and gives him a look that says, "What is even going on here?" Alex shrugs, indicates his head towards Xavier. Truthfully, it's the only explanation that he can give.

"I'm teaching him how to better control his power. Perhaps, you'd like to learn as well."

Darwin smiles at Charles, says, "I see. No, I'm good, man. My power doesn't take any training, just comes when it does."

Alex wants to shout, "Liar", because he remembers Darwin stretching his arm out just to grab a magazine out of Alex's hands, but he keeps silent. Darwin is looking at him, but Alex pretends not to see it because he knows exactly what it's about.

Alex isn't one to beg, and if he's not offered, then he's not going to ask.

* * *

><p>Charles spends his week subtly trying to push Alex into asking Darwin for help. It isn't that he's not willing to help Alex himself, can handle both him and Sean easily, but Alex isn't going to ask someone he's just met to train him. It would be too noticeable a shift in his personality for anyone to ignore.<p>

Charles isn't going to be caught out this soon, hasn't planned this so carefully to give himself away over such an idiotic mistake.

It's easy to hide what he's doing from Erik. Charles knows his schedule like the back of his hand. He skims it off the top of Erik's mind every morning when he's most at ease: checking his email at the breakfast table. Erik doesn't say much to him, then, or at any other time, refuses to mention their encounter in the hallway.

Charles isn't going to push him. He can wait until Erik's ready, or Charles himself is. His plan is a slow burner, like Erik himself, so they can take whatever time they need.

Periodically, he checks in on Erik's mind while he's chatting with the boys, just to make sure he isn't on his way or feeling more frustrated or angry than normal. He can calm Erik back to his normal levels with barely a thought, although the more often he has to, the more likely it is Erik will notice.

Darwin's a little suspicious of him, but he hides it well. Knowing Darwin's power from Erik's mind makes it easy for Charles not to slip up around him, although it does make it much more difficult to read him. He hasn't tried once to enter Darwin's mind. It would be a fool's errand; Darwin's mind would block him out without fail.

So, he tries to fix Darwin's suspicions by other means. It takes Charles less than a day to piece together Alex. He's insecure, but he hides it behind bravado that only Erik, Darwin, and sometimes Sean, notice. He has a strained relationship with his brother, Scott, another energy emitter ─ Charles adds that to his theory of mutant evolution: siblings sharing similar mutations ─ born of envy and a need for approval.

The most useful information Charles finds however is that Alex and Darwin have been teetering on the edge of a relationship since the day that they met years ago when Alex hit Darwin with Erik's car. Charles puts it together easily enough from the secret language Alex and Darwin share in looks and touches, and from the way Alex even considers the thought and then brushes it away.

It's this information that Charles uses to ease Darwin's suspicion. He becomes friendlier with Alex, starts talking to him about geophysics, a subject that Charles isn't wholly interested in or knowledgeable of, but has heard enough about it from Hank over the years to have a conversation with Alex. He can see in Darwin's eyes his approval of this and in these moments, Charles feels magnanimous, wants to help Alex and Darwin more than he wants his plan to turn out well.

But he knows he doesn't have to do anything because they'll do it for themselves eventually. Charles' mere presence is the catalyst in the situation, so he doesn't need to do anything more to get them to move forward.

He does, however, show off Sean's greater control of his powers because he does need Alex to ask Darwin for help with his power. Charles sets out to make him jealous, because jealousy is an easy emotion to cultivate, and Alex's mind is ripe for it.

Charles has fun training Sean because Sean is amusingly young, still incredibly innocent despite everything he's been through and done. Charles is kind of amazed at that ─ it's truly one of the wonders of the mind, it's ability to take trauma and turn it into something so naive.

Sean's mind bends so effortlessly to Charles', he almost feels bad except there's worse things he could be doing than turning Sean's voice into a finely tuned weapon. Worse things for Sean, that is. Charles knows exactly what Sean uses his powers for, has stored the memories of Sean paralyzing people, good and bad alike, with the sound of his voice in his file of memories not his own. It's Sean's job, and Sean does it well, most of the time. Who is Charles to begrudge him for using his powers in that manner when he's using it to infiltrate Sean's mind?

"Remember, your voice is a muscle," he has to tell Sean twice a day, because Sean is forgetful. He's more insecure in his powers than even Alex, although he's more willing to take a risk with it. Sean listens to Charles even without the mental push. He likes teachers and is comfortable in the role of a student. Charles wishes that he had Sean in one of his classes at Columbia; it's always pleasant having a student that wants to learn.

As Charles carries out his plan, he makes sure that he handles his business outside Erik's office. He contacts Raven once a day, so that she knows he's still alive, though he doesn't let her argue with him. He loves Raven. He doesn't want to be forced to change her mind, so he cuts her off when her thoughts turn from _Charles, I've missed you_ to _Charles, you can't stay with that monster forever_. Charles knows she's planning something, but he's confident that he can stop her ─ or Erik ─ before things get out of hand.

He contacts the Dean of Faculty at Columbia and makes him put down that Charles is on leave. Raven only went in to tell them that he'd be out for a little while, never filled out the proper paperwork, so he has the Dean do it for him. It would be too suspicious to leave a loose end like that.

The last person he contacts is Hank. Hank's mind usually moves too fast for Charles to enter. He has to slow it down, and that makes Hank nervous which isn't good for him or his brilliant mind. He needs to know though, so on Thursday, he slides into Hank's mind.

_Hank, it's me_

"Yeah, I know," Hank says both inwardly and aloud. He's alone in the lab so the random outburst doesn't frighten anyone ─ not that it would anyone who's been around Hank in his lab for longer than a moment. He's talkative when he's thinking things over whether he has someone to talk to or not.

_Where've you been? _Hank asks, this time only in his mind. Charles is surprised Hank's even noticed. It isn't that Hank's a bad friend, but when he gets caught up in something, there's only so much thought he bothers to put towards things like other people or eating.

_I got caught up in an engagement, discovered something you might be interested in. It's a collar that acts as a mutation suppressant._

─ _a mutation suppressant...this could be it...I could __ want_

_How do I get my hands on this, Charles?_ Hanks thinks, thoughts slowing down enough for him to pose the question.

_Already handled, just contact Raven_, and it's true. He'd had Raven obtain another collar the day after he'd had his removed ready for Hank to pick up the moment he asked.

_This is great. Imagine the power it could hold. I could amplify its reach, possibly even invert its ability, make a mutation amplifier. This could be huge for understanding the nature of mutation_.

Charles has no doubt of that; it's why he's giving it to Hank in the first place. He has the brainpower and the time to devote to the research, allowing Charles to focus on more important things.

_How did you come across this, Charles?_ Hank thinks at him after a long pause.

Charles smiles to himself as he thinks back, _My brother can be very generous_.

* * *

><p>Raven sets her plan into motion on Saturday. She knows Erik's schedule at this point, knows when and where he'll be within an accuracy of ninety-five percent, and she knows where Charles will be and who with.<p>

It wasn't difficult for her to find out. Trickery and deviousness comes with her power. Pretending to be Havok was easy, convincing Banshee of it even easier.

Now it's just the waiting that's difficult. She taps her fingers on the wheel of the borrowed car impatiently, and starts when a hand covers it.

"It's annoying," Angel says, and Raven tries to relax but it's hard.

"Just remember, all in due time," Angel says, trying to be reassuring but it doesn't help much because right after she says it, Banshee's car comes flying around the corner.

"Now," Raven half-shouts, but the order is unneeded. Angel's already spitting past Raven out the window. Her aim is perfect. One minute, Banshee's car is moving past theirs, the next it's stuck in a hole in the ground with a gaping tear in the bottom tread.

His shout of "Shit," is loud enough that Raven doesn't even have to pretend to have seen the accident, she just steps out of the car in the form of a tiny brunette and runs over.

"Oh god, that looks awful," she says, her voice deeper higher and sweeter than her normal one.

Banshee looks up at her from where he's texting his coworkers, and says, "It is. Shit. I need to get to work."

Raven, waiting for those exact words, says, "My friend and I can give you a ride. But don't you have to wait for the pick up?"

He actually blushes ─ oh, _cute_ ─ and says, "Ah ─ not really. I have...someone already coming to pick it up. I'd wait to go with them, but they're going in the opposite direction. Could I really catch a ride with you?"

She smiles, a warm, inviting one that she's practiced in the mirror, and says, "Let me just confirm with my friend."

She runs back over to the car where Angel is waiting, and says, "Banshee is taking the bait."

Angel rolls her eyes. "They do have names. Just because ─"

"I'm going to go reel him in," Raven cuts her off because no names. It's easier to rip them off that way, it doesn't involve any emotion when they're as nameless as the chair she sits in.

She waves over at Banshee, who's still blushing ─ _god_ ─ and shouts, "It's alright. Come on."

He shakes his head excitedly, red hair flopping wildly, and then dives into his car, grabbing his bag. It only takes a moment for him to get in the car, and he stares from Angel to Raven like he can't believe his luck.

_Don't believe it_, she thinks as Angel starts the car and she smiles at Banshee warmly moments before she blacks him out.

* * *

><p>Getting into Erik's office is easy after that. Raven's watched Banshee since before Charles' kidnapping, had been planning a less personal con on him, so the guards don't expect a thing. It's the security she's more worried about, but she's gotten past Magneto's security before, she can do it again.<p>

There are barely any guards whatsoever, a couple of heavies in the lobby and at the entrance to the stairs. It's so mundane and normal that Raven is almost bored. Walking in and out with Charles is going to be a piece of cake. All she has to do is avoid Erik.

And that's entirely easy to do too, because she's back checked Banshee's communications for a week. After she and Angel broke into Banshee's apartment and put him to bed ─ Angel's idea, not Raven's ─ Raven read about Charles training Banshee, a communication pointedly left out from Erik, and about his dealings with the rest of Erik's men. Banshee is busy for his age, more capable than he looks on sight, so it isn't until she's flipped through most of the communications that she finds one that refers directly to Erik and the Banshee's duties for the day.

All Raven has to do is avoid Erik's office, and she should be able to walk out clean.

She steps into the Banshee's shared work room, says, "Good morning, sorry I'm late. The car's front tire just suddenly exploded. It was ridiculous. Some lady that lived across the scene of the accident gave me a ride here, though. Nice lady."

Havok grunts in response, and Darwin just waves his hand, says, "Charles was looking for you. He's in Erik's office. You should go get him before he dies of boredom."

Raven pauses at that, says with a trepidation affected from watching Banshee, "I don't think that's a good idea. Erik hasn't been in a good mood this week."

"True," Darwin says, pausing, and for a moment he looks at Raven like he sees right through her disguise. It's impossible; Angel's never let her down, but Raven still feels a twinge of adrenaline, her chest tightening.

"I'll get him. He really wants to get started on that whole teaching you how to fly thing," Darwin says, standing and walking away.

It's when he leaves the room that Charles' voice enters her mind. _Raven, this is a terrible idea_ Charles says, _I wish you'd listen to me for once._

She snaps back at him, annoyed at the coddling tone in his voice, and says, _And I'd wish you'd stop treating me like a child. Just __ Charles __ you don't __**belong**__ here. I'm just taking you home, where you belong._

She doesn't add the _with me_ because he knows what she means anyway. Charles isn't the only person she has, not by far, but he's been _her_ Charles for so long that the thought of giving him up, especially to someone like Magneto, leaves a dirty taste in her mouth.

_Raven, you should leave. Now._

The worry in his tone surprises her, but Raven's quick to react. She turns on her heel, leaving the last thing on her mind. A Charles worried for her usually means a Charles is neglecting his own troubles for hers. He's been doing it since they were children, but Raven's not going to let him do it this time.

"Wait, where are you going, Sean?" Havok says behind her.

Raven ignores him, heading towards Magneto's office. She's memorized the buildings blueprints so she knows where it is. Obtaining the blueprint was the most difficult part of her whole plan; she'd had to pay a hacker to break into Magneto's database to get it.

When she reaches the office, Darwin is standing outside, gun in hand.

Raven transforms immediately from Banshee, to blue, to Raven Xavier, and back to blue.

"Oh," he says, "Makes more sense now. You're here for Charles?"

"How'd you figure it out?" she asks, more curious at that than whether her impersonation of Banshee makes sense to him.

"It's my power," he says coolly. He's not going to tell her anything more so she moves on.

"You can put the gun down," she says, "I'm really not interested in you."

Darwin does, says, "He's in there with Erik. Don't get yourself killed."

Raven whips her head around to stare after him as he walks past her, but he doesn't look back. It's a curious choice of words, and she can't imagine why he wouldn't want her dead.

She shrugs, walking to the doors of Magneto's office and pushing them open without fear. If he was going to kill her, he could've done it the moment Darwin told him she wasn't Banshee. He's keeping her alive, and she's going to take advantage of that mistake.

"Magneto," she says, when she opens the door. He's seated at his desk, staring at her as she approaches. Charles is on a couch next to the desk, and he stands as she approaches.

"Raven, what are you doing here?" he asks as if they haven't had this conversation already within her head. She doesn't say anything to contradict his question; if he wants to hide his telepathy from Magneto, she isn't going to stop him.

"I'm here to take you home. This time for real, Charles. I'm surprised Magneto hasn't killed you yet. Most people don't last this long around him."

All Magneto does is smile at that. Of course, murder is a joke to him. He's done it enough at this point that it shouldn't bother him in the slightest.

"Raven," Charles says, _Don't say anything else. He's __ I can't really read his mood right now. Raven, please _

She ignores Charles and says, "I was going to kill you."

Magneto chooses to respond to that, says, "And I was going to kill you. Especially when I found out you were the one stealing from me."

That's when she gets it, why she's still alive. Magneto wants his rubies, and probably his diamonds and the cash she, Angel, and Ororo stole months ago.

"I've already spent all the cash," she says, just to rub it in.

"I know. You've also smuggled my diamonds out of country and are on your way to doing the same with the rubies. A children's relief fund?"

Raven grins, flicking her eyes to Charles' unsurprised face back to Magneto's cold one. "Not all of us are heartless monsters."

"I'd like to offer you a job."

Erik's response is so surprising that Raven takes a step back.

"A job?"

"Since you've broken past my security so easily, so many times, it only seems fitting that I add you to my security team."

Raven nods thoughtfully, says, "That would make sense. If we were living in a movie and I didn't hate your guts."

"I'm not giving up your brother," Magneto says, cutting his eyes to Charles. Charles smiles at Raven, whispers in her mind, _Raven, it's not like you think. He needs me. He really does_.

"And I won't leave without him."

Magneto smirks, and says, "So you'll take the job?"

Raven smirks right back at him, and says, "Yes, but it's going to cost you."

Magneto leans back in his chair and stares at her, and says, "I have no doubt that it will."

* * *

><p>Charles is more stunned at Erik's offer to Raven than even Raven herself. He hasn't been delving too far in Erik's mind the past week, and only the parts most related to his day to day activities, so Erik's knowledge of Raven's extensive thievery comes at a shock.<p>

It passes quickly though, and Charles is already folding the day's activities back into his plan, shifting it to account for the changes.

He has to make sure now that Erik doesn't know, has to delve deeper and more silently into Erik's mind than he's done for the past five days. It isn't easy, but Erik's mind is distracted enough with Raven for Charles to slip in and steal away all of Erik's suspicion and seal it away within his own mind.

Charles wonders if this is how Raven feels when she and Angel are conning men into giving away their own valuables, this sense of power. It's probably why she enjoys it so much. Charles could find out for sure, but he's been deep enough in Raven's mind enough to know that she's not planning anything else having to do with saving Charles save for paying off his debt. He doesn't like to invade her privacy too often; it just isn't tempting. He knows everything about her already, knows the best way to push her buttons and make her fold.

He hides his amusement when Raven asks for the full value of Charles' debt as her payment, and Erik gives it to her without question. They put it in writing, and Raven signs it, and it's at the end when Erik reveals that he's tacked on the full value of _her_ debt to Charles' so that in order to 'free him' she has to pay Erik more than double Charles' original buying price. Raven's face doesn't hold her angry expression long, but it's long enough for Charles to imprint it in his memory for much later usage.

After conversing with Raven and convincing her not to take Sean hostage ─ he doesn't mention that it wouldn't work, keeps his knowledge of the darkest parts of Erik's soul to himself ─ he waits in Erik's office while Raven goes to talk with Darwin and Alex on her own.

She's surprised at that, and Charles is glad that he's treated her like a child for so long. She's much more capable in defiance than she would ever have been with compliance.

"What have you been up to Charles?"

Charles smiles, inclining his head towards Erik, "Besides having to constantly find some way to entertain myself, nothing. Raven is quite capable of trying to kill you on her own."

Erik laughs with actual amusement. "I believe you on that. I'm talking about what you've been doing with my men."

For a moment, Charles is certain Erik's figured out at least some small part of his plan but then he looks at Erik's face. _Oh._

Erik's jealous.

Charles strategizes quickly, thinks, _It's okay if I do this now_ and says, "I rather like them. They're very entertaining."

"Mmm," is all Erik says, but the jealousy is even darker in his eyes now, and Charles, stands up, and says, "I'm going to check in on Raven. I'll be back for lunch."

Erik frowns, but he doesn't say anything else, just lets Charles leave.

* * *

><p>It's at Erik's apartment that Erik makes his response known. His mind has been overflowing with tension and jealousy since Charles missed lunch with him, and it comes to a head when Charles opts out of dinner, says, "I had a large lunch with Sean, Darwin, and Raven."<p>

Erik stops him in the doorway of the kitchen without a hint a metal, just his arm outstretched across the pane.

"What are you up to, Charles?" Erik asks again, and Charles smiles.

"I'm not 'up to' anything at all, Erik. You're being paranoid."

"I ─" Erik slams his hand against the pane, warping the metal underneath his fist.

And that's when Charles says, "Do you need me to?" and makes Erik's mind go blank.


	11. XI

**XI.**

Charles has always known two things about himself: he's brilliant, and he is only as good as he chooses to be.

It's a struggle to be ethical when the very nature of his power is unethical. Especially, when Charles loves using his powers. He loves the feeling of another mind intertwined with his own, loves to explore the facets of another's mind. Shaping and reshaping their thoughts, their beliefs, the very things that make a person ─ it's a high.

He made the decision as a child ─ a decision made simple by Kurt Marko ─ that trying to weigh the choice between using his powers and taking the moral higher road, well, it all depends on the situation. Charles isn't going to restrict a part of himself simply because someone else might find it immoral, and he's certainly not going to allow someone to hurt him for not doing so. Not again.

At times, choosing between the high of using his power and doing the "right" thing is effortless. With his students, it would be such a simple thing to slip into their minds and give them all the answers, make them believe that they'd known them all along. However, that wouldn't help them in the long run and knowing that 95% of his class aren't going to succeed, makes leaving their minds alone even easier.

Besides, their minds are boring, two-dimensional landscapes with not a hint of distinction. Charles has no interest in exploring them.

At times making the choice is a little harder. He loves Raven, truly loves her. She's his only family, the only person worth counting as that, so when she asks him to stay out of her mind, he does. Doing so is easy because he _knows_ Raven, understands her sometimes better than she understands himself, so he can usually ascertain her thoughts.

However, usually is only_ usually, _and on those occasions when he has no idea what she's thinking ─ sometimes the temptation is stronger than any desire to be moral. Charles doesn't make any excuses for himself when he does it. It's not right, and convincing himself otherwise isn't worth his time. He sees it as all a part of raising Raven ─ if he knows what's she thinking, he knows how to manipulate her into doing what she wants instead of relying on him. Her disobedience has made her stronger person. Treating her like a child was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

At times his motives for using his powers extend beyond the high, and that's when any desire to hold back is written off.

He'd never really had much motivation to go that far until he'd met Erik. Erik's so unlike any person Charles has ever known, his broken mind calling to Charles like a beacon. Charles has never wanted to help someone as much as he wants to help Erik, and Charles knows he can do it. He can fix Erik; sometimes it feels like everything he's ever done has been leading towards that.

Manipulating Erik into wanting that help, well, it requires a lack of integrity that few things in Charles' life have required. It's an objective that necessitates maneuvering more than just Erik. Darwin, Sean, Alex, and even Raven are pieces in his scheme, although Charles truly does want to help them as well. Helping them is more of an afterthought though, a means to an end: relieving Erik of his pain.

And Charles knows that helping Erik will have to involve more pain than he wants to give Erik, but that's what is needed.

It's why when Charles realizes that Erik's jealous of Charles' relationship with his men, Charles doesn't hesitate to take advantage of it. He lets Erik believe there's something more going on then there actually is, says, "I rather like them. They're very entertaining," allowing the jealousy to fester inside Erik.

It's going to help Erik in the long run, and that's all Charles really wants.

* * *

><p>He doesn't mean to, not at all, but one moment Charles is pressing his fingers to his head ─ a simple warning of the impending invasion ─ and the next Erik is dragging him towards the couch by his shoes. If he was feeling less honest, he'd say that Charles is in his mind, manipulating him, but really Erik has been holding himself back for so long that he's sure Charles wouldn't need to manipulate him to make him <em>want<em> as strongly as he does in this moment.

Charles falls backwards along the couch, bending at the knees, and in a repeat of their second encounter, Erik falls after him.

He doesn't kiss him gently, doesn't want this to be gentle at all. It's lust pure and simple, and Erik just wants to get it over and done with. He can't concentrate when all he wants to do is fuck Charles against every surface of his apartment and office ─ and he wonders briefly as he tears at Charles' shirt, whether that isn't Charles' workings, keeping Erik under control by placing him in a state of perpetual aching lust. Erik wouldn't put it past him at all.

Erik grinds his teeth together before pulling away from Charles' lips. He stares at them for a moment. They're more impossibly red than normal; in fact, Charles whole face is flushed and he looks taken aback, blue eyes wider than usual. Erik feels a flare of accomplishment at being able to still surprise Charles, and then goes back to his task.

He presses his fingers into Charles side and then farther down, under the waistband of his pants. It's easy to slide his hand in; while he was kissing Charles, he'd worked the belt loose and buttons open. His hand slides around Charles' thigh until he's brushing up against Charles' cock.

"Erik," Charles says, and Erik is almost satisfied by the quality of the whine. He moves his hand back to Charles thigh, digs his fingers into it, suddenly wanting to hear him beg.

As if he were listening in on Erik's thoughts the entire time, Charles does, says, "Come on, Erik."

Erik doesn't ask what Charles wants; at the moment, he could care less. What Erik _wants_ is to fuck Charles, and he grabs Charles by the back of his hair, dragging his teeth along Charles throat, sucking on the soft skin at the crook of his neck as he starts to push the pants down past Charles' hips.

"Let me," Charles says, voice ragged. He tries to pull his pants down himself, but Erik doesn't want that. He's in control here. It doesn't take more than a thought to fashion a piece of the table into suitable cuffs and he hooks one around Charles right wrist, dragging it behind his back. Charles doesn't fight when Erik grabs his left hand and pulls it behind his back as well, attaching the cuff to his left wrist. Erik gets the feeling that Charles is letting him do it, and he pulls away to stare into Charles face.

Charles eyes are closed, and Erik waits until he opens them.

"Yes, Erik," Charles says, his calm tone belying the ruddy colour of his cheeks.

"Beg me again," Erik says.

Charles gives Erik a considering look, and then says, "No."

It's the right answer ─ for Erik anyway, and he pushes Charles down onto the couch, not caring about the probable awkwardness of the position. He finishes pulling off Charles pants, using his hands to push them past his knees and ankles. Charles boxers go after that, and then he's fully nude before Erik.

Erik grins, all predatory, and says again, "Beg me."

"No."

Erik shrugs, still grinning, and then he grabs Charles cock. It's already hard in hands, and Erik drags his hand slowly up along its length. He quickens the pace of his strokes, and Charles hisses. The sound goes straight to Erik's cock, but now that he's calmed down from the earlier haze of lust, Erik's eager to draw this out. He wants to hear Charles' beg, and if he has to draw this out for hours he will.

He switches his position so that he can bend down between Charles thighs. He hasn't done this in a long time, but it's not really something you forget how to do. He wraps one hand around the base of Charles' cock, and then wraps his lips around the tip.

Erik focuses on sucking the head, using the hand not gripping the couch to circle the base. He strokes in a light twisting motion, and Charles' shudders beneath him. Erik sucks harder, takes in more of Charles length, and Charles jerks beneath him, bucking his hips. Erik removes his hand from Charles' cock, pressing it against Charles' thigh to still him.

He swallows, allowing more of Charles into his mouth as he bobs his head up and down Charles' length. Charles moans and starts to push against Erik's restraining hand, and that's when Erik takes him all the way in swallowing around Charles. Charles makes a noise like he's dying, a high whinnying sound, and that's when Erik pulls away, wiping the spit away from his mouth with the back of the hand that was holding Charles down.

When he looks at Charles face, Erik feels a sense of gleeful triumph. Charles' cheeks are blotched, his bottom lip bruised from being bitten, and by the feel of the metal on Charles' wrists, his hands are fisted behind him.

"Beg me," Erik says softly. Charles looks so worn out that Erik is starting to feel sorry for him. Not enough to let him go, but enough that he won't mind finishing this soon.

A long silence passes as Erik waits for his response. Finally, Charles turns his gaze to Erik and grins at him, says, "You first."

It's not the response Erik was expecting at all. He stares at Charles thinking fast, and then grins at Charles slow and sure.

"I doubt it," Erik says.

Erik takes a moment to remove his shirt and kick off his shoes before returning to his position between Charles' legs. This time his objective is different. Charles is still erect, his cock jutting out of the messy nest of brown curls, precum glistening on the head.

Erik slides his fingers lightly over the tip of Charles' cock, reveling in the wanton, needy noise Charles makes as he slides them from the tip down to the base. Erik once again pities him, but the emotion is passing, smothered by his need to hear Charles' pleas.

Erik's glad that in this he's managed to gain some control over Charles, that despite the situation he can still block Charles out of his mind. Knowing that Charles is unaware of his next move is satisfying in a way that nothing has been in the past week.

"What do you want, Charles?"Erik asks, his tone mocking. _What do I need?_ echoes in Erik's head and he tamps down the memory, although it continues to weigh heavily on his mind.

"I'm not going to beg you, Erik."

Charles' voice is rough, his accent coming out stronger than usual. Erik appreciates this small victory, but he saves celebrating for Charles' _please._

_"_You will," Erik says, spreading Charles' thighs wide enough for Erik's shoulders to fit between. He hooks one of Charles' legs over his shoulder at the knee and tilts up Charles' hips. With one hand he parts Charles' ass, exposing his puckered hole.

Erik looks up to see Charles staring down at him with wide eyes. Erik thinks loudly at him _you know everything about me, Charles. Why do you look so surprised?_ He leans forward and presses his tongue against Charles' hole. Charles tastes like soap and sweat, not a particularly good or bad taste, and Erik starts to lick.

Erik's never done this before, so he doesn't know what to expect, but he's a fast learner. He swabs his tongue around the hole, pressing against its resisting opening occasionally. After a few minutes of this, Charles shifts forward and suddenly parts, allowing Erik's tongue inside. He slides his tongue in as deep as it will go past the tight ring of muscles, and works Charles over until he's clenching rhythmically around Erik's tongue.

He pulls out then, shifting so that he's raised above Charles hip and can see Charles' face. Charles eyes are closed, and he's covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Erik," Charles says, hips still bucking lightly. Erik quirks an eyebrow at him ─ he's barely done anything yet; he hadn't expected Charles to give in so easily. Charles shifts, his cock pressing against Erik's stomach leaving a wet smear there and Erik grins wildly. Easy, _so easy._

"Yes, Charles," he says after a long pause.

Charles takes a deep shuddering breath that racks through his whole body, and says, "Please, Erik, please."

Erik doesn't waste any time gloating, just moves backwards, allowing Charles to sit up. He removes his own pants, then his boxers, realizing belatedly that he's been sweating as well. Erik's been suppressing his own arousal, but now that Charles has begged him, the ache is almost too painful to bear.

He watches Charles struggle for a moment before he remembers the handcuffs and opens them, throwing them carelessly onto the table.

"What -" Erik starts to say when Charles sits up and crawls over to him, but then Charles is straddling his lap and Erik knows exactly what Charles wants.

"I want to ride you," Charles says, and Erik presses a restraining hand against Charles chest until Charles adds, "Please."

Erik nod, not trusting himself to speak, and then it occurs to him - "Lube?"

"I like the burn," Charles says, sounding strained, and then he's positioning himself above Erik, swinging his leg across Erik's hips. Erik places his hands on Charles hips, a steadying measure, and Charles thanks him byleaning forward, gripping Erik's shoulder for leverage. He moves until Erik's cock is nestled in the crevice of his ass, pressed against his wet entrance.

Erik grits his teeth, the muscles tightening in his jaw as he watches Charles slide down, so slow _too slow_, onto his cock. He doesn't know what it feels like for Charles, but it burns (so good, _too good)_. Charles is wet, but not wet enough, and he's so tight, fitting Erik perfectly.

Charles groans, rocking forward, and Erik's bottoming out, fully inside Charles. He shudders, and wants to close his eyes, savour the pleasure, but he keeps them open, watching Charles face. It's so open, his expressions so telling.

Charles is looking down, focused on sliding upwards on Erik's cock. Erik watches as he nibbles on his already bruised bottom lip and then Charles is slamming down, fucking himself on Erik's cock. Erik's grip on Charles hip tightens, and when Charles turns his head upward Erik can't help it, pulls Charles forward and presses his lips to Charles. He pushes his tongue against Charles' lips until Charles opens for him. He feels Charles moan against him, the sound a full-bodied action that has Charles grinding down on Erik's cock.

Erik pulls away, staring into Charles' face. Charles's hair is plastered messily to his forehead, sweat a light sheen on his skin.

"Please," Charles says, and then Erik's releasing him, letting him shove up and down. The friction of his movements is unbearable, and Erik isn't sure how he's held off for so long. Charles is whimpering now, and through the haze of pleasure, Erik can only make out the words, "Yes," and "Please."

Charles shifts on Erik, knees brushing against Erik's thighs and it's even better somehow.

"Fuck," Erik says, his one acknowledgement of how much Charles' movements are affecting him. Charles whimpers devolve into pants, and Erik knows he's close, just as close as Erik himself is. Erik takes pity on him, wraps his hand around Charles cock and starts to drag it up and down. Charles' riding motions make him thrust in and out of Erik's fist every time he moves up and down. Erik stares at the way Charles' cock slides through his fist for a moment, but his gaze returns to Charles face soon after.

Charles' mouth is open, wide and inviting, and Erik almost leans forward to kiss him again. He decides against it, watches the way Charles crinkles his nose, the way his eyelashes fall against his cheeks when he closes his eyes instead.

"Erik," Charles says, and suddenly his nails are raking against Erik's chest and Erik is pulsing into Charles, his orgasm washing over him, and Erik is watching Shaw.

* * *

><p>"Come here, Erik, I'm going to show you something."<p>

Erik walks over with trepidation that he's careful not to show. Fear isn't what makes him stronger, anger is. Shaw has taught him this enough for Erik to have learned to have the learned the lesson.

He stares at the machine Shaw is pointing at. It's a saw attached to a table, simple as that, and Erik can already tell what Shaw has planned.

"Should I lay down?" Erik says.

Shaw smiles him, and Erik stares at the whiteness of his teeth instead of into the darkness of his eyes.

"This is why you're my favourite, Erik. So intelligent, you are."

Erik takes off his shirt and lays down on the table and watches as Shaw walks over to the back of the machine.

"Turn it off, Erik," Shaw says, and then the saw turns on, buzzing in Erik's ear, but the only sound he can hear is Shaw's receding footsteps.

_Leaving_, and the relief is so strong, Erik forgets.

He screams when the saw cuts into his chest, and screams as he pulls it out. He looks down because he won't be afraid, not of this.

The skin is torn, and his blood is leaking out of him like a river. It's cut through bone, the white shards jagged mountains in his damaged flesh. He presses a hand to it, cuts a finger on a piece of his rib cage.

Erik doesn't notice when Shaw returns, but he does notice the healer, and he doesn't quite sigh in relief. He can't really. The blood is pooling in his lungs and he's slowly drowning.

He stiffens, forcing himself not to pass out as she starts, and listens as Shaw says, "You're ready, aren't you, Erik?"

Erik nods.

Later, Shaw takes him to a warehouse in downtown St. Louis. It's dark out, but Shaw doesn't even attempt to blend in, his white suit standing out in the dark of the night.

Two men that Erik doesn't recognize open the warehouse for Shaw and Erik follows as he enters the brightly lit building. In the middle of it, a man sits tied to a chair.

All Shaw says is, "Erik, why don't you show this man what we do to people who steal from me?"

Erik knows what he's really asking, and he feels sick only for a moment as he shoves the metal leg of the chair through the man's thigh.

The man screams, the sound echoing through the building. Erik revels in it, does the same thing to the other thigh. The man is crying, begging, his words gibberish.

"Now, Erik," Shaw says, placing a hand on Erik's shoulder that makes him shudder, the metal in the man's legs tearing downwards. "We're trying to send a message. How would we do that?"

Erik thinks for a moment, and then grins. He removes one of the legs from the man's thigh and sharpens it to a sharp point. He tears open the man's shirt ─ metal buttons ─ and starts to carve. It's slow, messy work; his control isn't that perfect but soon he's finished.

_"THIEF," _the words carved across the man's chest read, and Erik looks up at Shaw.

"So creative, Erik, you've done well," Shaw says, patting Erik on the head, and Erik is proud.

* * *

><p>Erik pushes Charles off of him, leaving his clothes where they lie. He leaves the room without saying a word, Shaw's proud face the only vision in his mind. He doesn't even notice Charles' presence, and Charles leaves his mind.<p>

He stares after Erik's retreating form and sighs. It was needed, he knows this, but it still hurts, hurting Erik like this.

Scratching along those scars ─ Charles knew what would happen, engineered it himself while Erik was focusing on trying to figure out which of his men he needed to keep away from Charles. He'd moved the memory to the forefront of Erik's mind, making sure it was the first thing Erik would think of.

The jealousy wasn't enough. Erik needed a stronger motivator, and throughout his life Erik's strongest motivator has always been Shaw.

Hurting Erik was a necessary undertaking, but still ─

Charles doesn't bother Erik for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>The next day, Erik gets a phone call at his office. He's dropped off Charles with Darwin. The whole car ride to his office was tense; Erik hasn't spoken a word to Charles since last night, and he can almost feel Charles' need to get into his head. The fact that Charles is holding back worries him more than Charles invading his thoughts.<p>

Erik's just sitting down to try and discover which charities he'd unknowingly supported during Mystique's run against him when his cell starts to buzz.

He doesn't recognize the number, which means it can't be anything good ─ only Darwin, Alex, Sean and the other heads of operations know this number and they're programmed into his phone. He picks it up slowly, and then says, "Who's this?"

"Sebastian would like you to accompany him to dinner," Azazel, his accent as strong as ever, says into the receiver.

Erik doesn't curse, just flashes to his memory of last night, of Charles digging his nails into the scar on his chest and _Shaw _─ he takes a deep breath before responding.

"Where?"

"A restaurant in Santa Monica. I'm to pick you up at 5:00 this evening. I'll meet you at your office," Azazel says, and for a moment, Erik imagines that he sounds just as exhausted with the conversation as Erik feels.

"Bring your Charles Xavier as well," Azazel says after a long pause. The phone is disconnected before Erik has the chance to explode, which he's only partially thankful for. Shaw doesn't need to know how much the idea of presenting Charles to him bothers Erik. It's a weakness Shaw's probably already guessed, but Erik's not going to be the one to confirm it.

"Fuck," he says to the empty office, and considers having a drink. He dismisses the thought quickly; he'll need all he has to deal with Shaw this evening. If he's going to have to put on a show, then he'll need to have all his bearings.

Eventually he'll have to inform Charles, but Erik is still so dubious about Charles and his relationship with him that he sits in his office for an hour before he forces himself to move.

He finds Charles, predictably, in the west office with Sean. Darwin and Alex are out collecting, and Sean is supposed to be bookkeeping but instead he's shaking the furniture with his voice. Erik almost gets angry at him, but when he looks at Charles from the doorway of the room, he feels only envy. It's not an emotion he's used to feeling. Anger sure, jealousy not as often, but _envy_ is new territory for Erik.

"What are you doing?" he asks, drawing out his words for maximum effect.

Sean jumps, caught mid-shout, and looks at Erik, eyes wide. Erik smirks at the sight, and thinks _I'm not a good person_, as he relishes the look of fear on Sean's face.

"I was just, uh, practicing. Charles is training me, you know?"

Erik cuts Sean's rambling short with a nod of his head and then turns to Charles. "I need to speak with you."

He turns back to Sean, and says, "Call Darwin and see where he's at with the collecting, and I want you to look into all the restaurants in Santa Monica that Shaw might hold a share in."

Knowing Shaw, it's probably all of them, but it's not going to hurt to get the lay of the land. Erik's certain that it's not going to be today that he kills Shaw, but just in case ─

Sean gives him a confused look while Erik waits for Charles to come to him, but Sean starts moving as soon as Erik turns his attention back to him.

Charles gets up, and Erik starts to walk knowing that he's following behind. He's almost to his office when Charles stops him with a hand on Erik's arm. Erik's looks down at it , trying to ignore the warmth of the touch_,_ and then waits for Charles to speak.

"You do realize that you call me like a dog?" Charles says. There's a humour in his tone, but all Erik can see is the seriousness in his eyes, the dark way he's studying Erik.

"I -"

He stops himself before the _I'm sorry_ leaves his mouth, rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably as his mind flashes back to last night ─ _beg me, Charles, beg me._

"We'll just need to train you out of that, I suppose," Charles says. Erik shoots Charles a look, the fear and anger already building, but when he notices that Charles is smiling he calms down. It's a joke, merely a joke and Erik smiles slowly. He's not used to this, and a voice whispers _I could get used to this._

He tamps the voice down hard, stops smiling as he continues the walk to his office.

When they're both ensconced in the fake protection of his office, Erik says, "We're having dinner with Shaw tonight."

Erik doesn't say anything more. There isn't anything more to say. He stares down at his desk for a moment until Charles makes a sound in the back of his throat. Erik looks up to see Charles staring at him with an almost gentle expression.

"Erik, what do you want from me?" Charles asks softly, and Erik knows it's a loaded question.

He's not ready to deal with the cost of answering it however, and says, "I need you to pretend, and I need you to be pretend well."

Charles stares at him, scrutinizing Erik in a way that makes him feel bare. After a long moment, Charles says, "Done, but after this, we'll need to talk."

Erik nods. _They really do._


	12. XII

**XII.**

Dinner with Shaw is a test of power on both his and Erik's parts. Charles carefully catalogues Erik's tension, surreptitiously sending him calming thoughts as they wait for Azazel in the lobby of Erik's office building.

"Erik," Charles says, placing a hand on Erik's arm. The muscles are just as tense as his mind, and Charles rubs him soothingly, ignoring the look on Erik's face.

"Charles," Erik warns, pulling away.

His face is tinged a light pink, and Charles checks, makes sure it's okay before he says, _Calm your mind. This will be over soon._

Charles is surprised when Erik engages him, says, _Not soon enough._

Aloud, Erik says, "I had this building specifically built to block out telepaths."

Charles inwardly curses his mistake, calculates it into his plan. "And your apartment the same. As I told you before, I'm no Emma Frost."

Erik's gives him a discerning look. "What are you then?"

Charles grins, says, "I'm Charles Xavier."

Erik doesn't get the chance to respond because Azazel arrives in the lobby in a puff of black smoke. Charles marvels at his physical mutation, quite like Raven's and then ─

stops.

_Raven._

The information is easy to drag from Azazel's mind, and even if Charles hadn't thought of Raven, he would've made the connection by the way Azazel avoids his gaze like Charles can see right through him.

_Oh, you have something to hide, do you?_

Charles carefully stores the information, locking it away in his mind. He's going to dinner with another telepath; he's not going to leave information like that out in the open. It also wouldn't do to leave traces of his footsteps in Azazel's mind, so he carefully erases that as well. Charles knows Emma's weaker than him, but he also knows that means nothing about how formidable she is. If she's skilled enough to for Erik to find it necessary to shield his mind , then she's skilled enough to know when another telepath's been trawling through someone's mind.

"Take my hand," Azazel says, and Charles grabs it. The skin is softer than it looks, calloused but human-feeling. Charles wonders at the nature of his mutation. Hank would love to study him.

_Hank_ ─ Charles has almost forgotten. He needs to check in with Hank, see how far he's gotten with the mutation suppresser. Hank would have called him if he'd made a breakthrough; however, Charles likes to know Hank's progression. Despite the fact that the speed of Hank's mind makes it difficult for Charles to stand exploring it for long periods of time, Charles loves experiencing it. Seeing how Hank makes connections, how he jumps from one idea to another while still being able to shape the former ─ it's beautiful in its organized chaos.

There's no chance for him to do it now, though can't risk ─

And suddenly there's a jump and Charles is standing on a darkened pier with Azazel's hand still clasped in his, watching Erik brush off his suit.

"That was...amazing," Charles says, and he wants to go through Azazel's mind again, find out the nature of his mutation and everything about it, but he can't.

He can't take the risk.

He doesn't know the extent of Emma's powers, and he isn't sure of the tricks she's learned so Charles separates his mind into two spheres. He stores his real thoughts, his real memories in a vault locked so tightly in his mind that no one but a telepath of his level would notice. He covers the vault with inane, _human_ thoughts and feelings tailored towards the situation, using the lowest amount of power needed to maintain the illusion.

"Thank you," Azazel responds to Charles compliment, nodding at him. Charles smiles, wishing he could enter his mind ─ he suppresses the thought, storing behind the illusion of _to think that mutations like this could exist._

"We walk from here," Azazel says. Charles looks to Erik, but he's looking away, studying the buildings around the pier.

_Calculating_ _how much strength it would take to bring them down_.

For a moment, Charles isn't sure whether the thought is his or Erik's.

He hides the thought behind _I've never been to Santa Monica. It's beautiful. I wonder which building belongs to Mr. Shaw. Erik never told me which one. Doesn't really tell me much most of the time._

Underneath the illusion, he laughs inwardly. Erik doesn't need to tell him anything, Charles can just take it from his mind.

They start to follow Azazel to a restaurant close by. Charles half-expected it to be a gaudy place, but Shaw, or possibly Emma, has a semblance of class, and it's a beautiful restaurant, modern almost space age like design, white on the inside and out. _Emma then,_ he thinks, remembering the all-white outfit she wore during their first meeting and every meeting she's ever had with Erik.

_(Takes Frost a little too much to heart_).

Azazel holds the door open for them, and Erik and Charles enter. Charles notes that Erik doesn't thank him, which isn't a surprise. Erik doesn't trust anyone who works for Shaw, a smart move.

"Downstairs," Azazel says, pointing towards the white marble staircase in the empty restaurant before disappearing into another room.

Erik places a hand on his back, and pushes Charles forward with a force that nearly knocks him off-balance. (_Need to work on that),_ Charles thinks and adds it to his list.

"This place is beautiful," Charles comments, and he knows the exact look Erik is giving him even though he can't see it. Confusion, followed by resolve, _no weakness here_.

Charles feels a sense of pride at how well Erik has managed to develop his control over his emotions. Charles can't wait to watch him lose it; it's sure to be spectacular.

"Thank you for taking me with you," he murmurs, even though he knows Emma can hear him. He can feel her mind pressing against his, not yet entering, but waiting on the outside. He enforces the illusion before he reaches the bottom of the stairs and wipes his own tracks from his mind as well as he can without lobotomizing himself.

"Erik," Shaw says, standing up to greet him, arms wide in fake excitement. Charles feels the ache to use his powers, wants to get into Shaw's mind and destroy it from the inside out. At the same time, he wants to explore it, find out _why_ Shaw is the way that he is. He does neither, although it would be so simple.

Charles thinks, _he must really like Erik. That's...surprising. Erik doesn't seem to really like him_, and he glances back at Erik, his expression unsure enough to support the illusion. Charles has spent enough of his life pretending to make playing the role of the naive, excited professor effortless.

The hardest part of this endeavour is not knowing. He won't be able to tell Erik's moods, save for what he can discern from his actions and his words. Shaw made a smart move by choosing a telepath to stand by his side. Charles is lucky that Erik is capable of protecting his own mind from Emma. Giving up Charles is the last thing Erik would do; not even that, it's something Erik would never do. Erik's devotion makes things much simpler for Charles; it's one less thing he has to worry about.

Erik takes a seat at the round white table, directly across from Shaw, and Charles takes the one next to him in full view of Emma.

"So," Shaw starts when he sits down, "You don't have any nut allergies, do you Charles?"

_(I'm sure you already know)_

Charles plays along, says, "No, I don't. Why?"

"We're having Thai. I would hate for you to die on us. Erik would be really upset, and that wouldn't do at all."

Charles blushes, the colour coming easily to his cheeks. It's a skill Charles perfected at Oxford. It came in handy quite often.

"Oh, I love Thai," he adds. The blush is still staining his cheeks he knows, and he thinks, _This is embarrassing. _

"Good. Azazel is a wonderful chef," Shaw says, and a moment later Azazel appears in the room with a tray of food.

(_So she doesn't always birdcall you? Is it only for punishment purposes or when you're not expecting it. Shall have to ask Raven)_

There's a pressure on Charles' mind and Charles focuses on his illusion. Azazel starts setting the dishes on the table. Everything smells delicious, and Charles has to agree with Shaw's assessment of Azazel's skill. _This looks wonderful. Should I ask?_ _I'm going to -_

"Azazel and Erik's mutations are wonderful. Truly fascinating. Do you possess mutations as well?" Charles asks, looking from Shaw to Emma excitedly.

He's most curious as to whether Shaw is a mutant. Erik is sure he is, and Charles is mostly certain of it as well. Shaw has never revealed his mutation before, though, so it's hard to be truly certain. He could just be a particularly manipulative and skilled human, though it's more likely that he's a manipulative and skilled mutant. Those traits aren't exclusive to humans.

"Me, a mutant? Oh no," Shaw says, laughing. He grabs Emma by the shoulder, pulling her close to him, and Charles catches the look of annoyance just before it's replaced by a smile as fake as Charles' own.

"My dearest Emma, though, she's a telepath," Shaw continues, smiling at Emma.

"Really?" Charles says, affecting the surprise and excitement.

_Yes, really, sweetie._

(_You've been waiting for this moment haven't you?)_

_How does this work? Do I just think and you can hear me?_

_It's exactly like that,_ and there's a humour in her tone that's indicative of her lie. It's nothing like that at all, more complex than even Charles is capable of understanding.

_This is fabulous._

"Absolutely fabulous," he says aloud, grinning at Emma and Shaw. Shaw squeezes Emma's shoulder like he's proud. Emma smiles back at him, a self-satisfied smirk that's telling of the pressure he'd felt as she searched his mind. More a sharp stabbing like a particularly vicious migraine than anything. It's different experiencing the pain in Erik's mind than it is on his own as always. Charles is sure he's going to need a painkiller when he gets back.

_(You're as sharp as your skin. Too obvious, Emma.)_

He was right about Emma's strength. She's not nearly as powerful as Charles, though she's as capable at pretending as Charles. If he hadn't noticed the unhappiness on her face as Shaw touched her, Charles wouldn't be as certain that she doesn't like Shaw at all. At least not enough to work harder on her illusion of happiness.

_(So much for marital bliss)_

Charles starts eating as soon as his plate is set before him. He's hungry, and he knows the food is good, the memory of Azazel cooking for a very satisfied Raven popping into his mind from behind his vault. It doesn't go far enough for Emma to notice, but Charles suppresses it quickly.

Erik hasn't said a word since they entered the room, and Charles is a little worried. He doesn't want to force Erik into the conversation, but his silence is too noticeable, too suspicious. He hasn't felt Emma's presence in his mind in awhile, so it's only logical that she's trawling through Erik's. Charles almost gives in to his temptation to forcefully remove her from Erik's mind, but he resists; Erik can handle himself, doesn't need Charles protection here. Charles just has to keep telling himself that.

"Why did you want Charles here, Shaw?"

Shaw laughs, shaking his head at Erik. "You're so suspicious, Erik. Is it a crime to be interested in the man you decided was worth 110 million?"

(_I'm worth more than that.)_

"Yes. Your interest is never without a price," Erik says. Charles knows what Erik is thinking of and wishes he could turn his focus to Erik's mind without Emma noticing.

Shaw sets his attention on Charles, and says, "Well, Charles, Erik is right. The question is: are you willing to pay the price?"

Charles smiles at him, making sure his expression is uncertain yet resolved enough to be convincing. "Yes, I am."

"Good," Shaw says, and then he returns to his meal. Charles doesn't know how to respond, and at least that insecurity is real. Emma's smiling at him as she twirls noodles around her chopsticks. Whatever Shaw means,

(_it isn't anything good.)_

They all go quiet after that, focusing on the food, and Charles spends his time surreptitiously watching Shaw. Well, he knows that Shaw notices, but his illusion of curiosity about what Shaw meant is good enough that Emma barely pays him any mind, just pressure against his mind here and there.

His curiosity finally gets the better of him, and Charles asks, "What price do I have to pay?"

Shaw inclines his head at Charles, and says, "Of course, I have to know that you'll take care of my Erik. He's very special to me."

On the outside, Charles is taken aback, but behind his vault, he's unsurprised by Shaw's deflecting.

"I would never hurt Erik. All I want is to take care of him."

The words are more genuine than anything he's said that evening, and by Emma's look, she's noticed. Perhaps he shouldn't have revealed his feelings, but it's too late to take it back now. He'll just have to live with the consequences.

"That's good. That's all I want as well, Charles," Shaw says, smiling at Erik. Charles chair shakes underneath him, but only enough to be noticeable to him.

He places a hand on Erik's arm and doesn't move it for the rest of the meal.

* * *

><p>"What did Emma say to you?" Charles asks Erik when they're safely ensconced in Erik's apartment. They're in Erik's living room; Charles hasn't been in there since they'd had sex on the couch and he's amused by the new cushion on the couch.<p>

"Also, I'm curious as to why you have two bedrooms," Charles says, as the odd thought pops into his head.

"Designer's error," Erik says, answering Charles second inquiry first. His answer points Charles in the right direction, and he accesses the memory. It wasn't a nice end for the designer. Erik can be quite creative when he wants to be.

There's a long pause, and Charles waits patiently for Erik's answer. They have all the time in the world, really.

"The usual," Erik says, and he doesn't elaborate. Charles is sure he's lying but he doesn't press the issue. If Erik wants to turn the tide of the conversation, Charles will play along.

"Did you know that Shaw has a modeling agency?" Charles says, because it's information he can afford to give up. "It's just another way for him to recruit mutants. My sister did some modeling for them. He knows about her mutation, and he's happy she's working for you. He wants to exploit her."

Erik gives him a wide-eyed look, the flood of worry hitting Charles hard. "Does he know about you?"

Charles smiles, says, " Raven wasn't very smart She revealed herself to Azazel. In fact, Raven is dating him."

He laughs good-humouredly before continuing, " However, she was smart enough not to tell him about me, and Emma never had the chance to go through her mind. Not that she would get much from it. I'd never leave my sister so unprotected."

"Of course not," Erik repeats softly.

Erik's looking at him through the mirror now, and Charles pretends not to see the way he's studying him. He wants to give Erik his privacy now because before the night's done, there will be nothing secret from Charles.

Erik's phone vibrates in his pocket, and he carries it up to his ear with a curl of his finger.

"What is it, Darwin?" Erik says. Charles is sure the question is meant to have bite, but all Erik sounds is worn out.

Charles is tempted to pull the nature of the conversation out of Erik's mind, but he increases his resolve not to enter Erik's mind until the right moment.

"She's _here_?" Erik says into the receiver, "Why is she here?"

There's a muffled response on the other line, and then Erik says, "Okay, tell her I'll be there soon."

Erik hangs up the phone and picks up his and Charles' coats off the chair that they left them on.

"We need to go to the office," he says, handing Charles his coat.

"Why?" Charles says, as he shrugs into it.

"The Hunter is here," Erik says simply, and Charles nods. Erik's had many dealings with this mutant but never before in person, so Charles isn't sure what to expect.

"Should I be worried?" Charles asks, as he follows Erik out the door and into the elevator.

Erik gives him a slow look, and says, "You tell me."

Charles doesn't pout but it's a near thing. Erik's not up for teasing tonight, still just as tense as he was earlier.

"I'm not sure," Charles says, and Erik nods, replies, "Neither am I."

They don't speak again until they're in the car and halfway to Erik's office.

It occurs to Charles that this might have something to do with Cain, so he asks, straightforward, "Is this about my step-brother?"

"Yes," Erik says, "Of course."

"I told you that he wasn't important."

Erik turns to look at him. He's gritting his teeth and Charles can see there's a tense line in his jaw. Whatever Erik's mind has been dwelling on is not helping his mental control at all.

"And I told you that he is."

"Is revenge really that worthwhile?" Charles asks. He wants to touch Erik in comfort, but he stays back. Erik needs to be strong at least for now, and Charles knows that if he makes Erik notice his own weakness, all Charles' work will be for naught.

"It's all I have," Erik says, and Charles doesn't know what to say that so he doesn't say anything.

They finish the rest of the drive in silence. When they reach the office, Charles immediately knows which room they're meeting the Hunter in. While the rest of the building casts a dark shadow on the well-lit street, Darwin, Sean, and Alex's office is a bright light in the center of the darkness.

They make their way inside all the way to the west office.

"Magneto," the Hunter says when he enters the room. Charles notices Darwin and Alex before he notices her. She's seated in a darkened corner away from the light of Darwin's and Alex's desks. Her face is curiously covered by a hood and scarf. All he can see is her eyes, yellow like a cat's.

"Hunter," Erik says in turn as she comes to a stand. "What brings you here?"

"I lost Cain Marko."

Erik and Charles both raise brows at that. From what Charles has gleaned from Erik's mind, she's the best tracker in the world. Her losing Cain is unimaginable.

"Where?"

"I followed him all the way to South Korea. You've been there before," she says turning her attention to Charles, "I can smell it on you."

Charles nods. Being sold by Erik has been great for his encounters with all kinds of genetic mutations. It's just too bad he can't study them all up close.

"As a child," he clarifies, "We took a family trip to South Korea. Why is this important?"

"He disappeared there. I followed him all the way through a jungle to a pile of rubble. It used to be a temple, I think. But it's been fallen for years now. Why he would go there, and how he could disappear there is a mystery to me."

It's a mystery to Charles as well and he thinks back to when they took their trip. Cain had gotten lost during their safari, but what could he have found that would bring him back there years later?

Charles should've gone into his mind when he'd had the chance.

The Hunter ends the conversation there, and Charles is certain she's about to leave when she turns back to Erik.

"Magneto, do you know he's a telepath? And a high-level one at that?" she says, and Charles is surprised enough to not deny the claim.

He'd been too busy trying to analyze what Cain could possibly be doing in South Korea to pay attention to his shielding.

A fool's error. This is a mutant that can sniff out the scent of a man across countries, he should've suspected she would be able to sense his mutation.

Alex and Darwin are giving him wide-eyed looks, and it's too late to try and alter the situation. Alex and Darwin already know, and he can't wipe Alex's mind without Darwin knowing nor can he do it here without Erik realizing he's overpowered his telepathic barriers. It's an error he'll just have to calculate into his plans. It's not too hard an error to repair, but it'll mean changing Alex, Darwin, and Sean's roles drastically. It's good that they've pushed Erik this far already, but Erik isn't the only person he's worried about.

The past few weeks of training Sean and working with him, Alex, and Darwin have made Charles care about them and their progress. It's hard to give up on that feeling now, and Charles doesn't want to besides. It's not like he has many other things to do while he waits for Erik.

"I know," Erik says, snapping Alex and Darwin's attention away from Charles. "Is that all, Hunter?"

She removes her hood and scarf to reveal a face marred by criss-crossing scars across her left cheek. It's beautiful in its raw savagery, and Charles wants to know how she got them. She won't take too kindly to him going through her mind though, so he refrains.

"My names Maria," she says, before pulling the hood back over her head and replacing the scarf around her face.

"Goodbye, Maria," Charles calls after her as she exits down the hall.

"Go with her," Erik says although both he and Charles know she isn't out of earshot.

Darwin moves to follow, but Erik stops him with a wave of his hand. "Alex, you go. And quickly."

Alex nods, and goes, staring at Charles as he walks past him.

When he's disappeared down the hall, Erik turns to Darwin. "Charles is going to erase Alex's memory."

Charles is surprised by Erik's reaction, surprised enough to actually laugh aloud. Even though Charles knows everything about him, the fact that Erik can still surprise him ─ it's brilliant.

Erik gives him a sharp look, and Charles doesn't remove the smile from his face. Erik gives up after a moment and returns his gaze to Darwin who's looking from Erik to Charles critically.

"Charles is going to erase Alex's memory, and you're not going to mention this to him. Or anyone else."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Darwin says, his tone laconic. He's not happy, but he doesn't show it, and Charles should've been using him better. He'll have to amend that starting tomorrow.

"I can do it when we leave," Charles says, "Alex won't remember anything. For him the conversation will end after Maria tells us about Cain, and then pick up again when she tells us her name."

Charles, recognizing the look in Darwin's eyes, adds, "It won't hurt him at all. He won't even know I was there."

Darwin visibly relaxes at that, and then moves towards the door.

"I'm going to check on Alex," he says by way of explanation.

"We'll be leaving so don't forget to lock up."

Darwin nods at Erik, and then gives an uncertain one to Charles. It's a shame that he had to find out. Now Charles frightens him ─ there's good reason to be frightened of Charles, but still he wishes it didn't have to be this way. Darwin's mutation is remarkable, but obstructive.

"We're leaving now," Erik says, and Charles watches the sag in his shoulders as he moves. Erik's tired, but Charles isn't going to let him off that easily.

He doesn't bother him during the car ride, but when they reach the apartment, Charles asks, "Erik, are you ready?"

He takes off his coat and places it on the chair as he waits for Erik's response. Erik stops mid-removal of his own coat and turns to Charles instead. The look in his eyes is more telling than anything he could say in response, and Charles smiles.

_He's ready, _Charles thinks as Erik says, "Yes."


	13. XIII

**Sorry for the delay. Lost all inspiration, but now it's back! Once again, this story has an M rating for a reason. **

* * *

><p><strong>XIII.<strong>

Erik still isn't sure how he feels about Charles. The obsession is easy to define; it isn't an unusual emotion for Erik. Every night he dreams about his mother, every day he imagines all the ways he can kill Shaw ─ obsession is his default state, along with anger, and Erik feels that towards Charles too. He feels anger at the way Charles gets into his mind. Half the time Erik can't tell whether Charles is using his telepathy to do so, or whether he just knows ─

_I know everything about you_.

The words are as unnerving as they are _comforting._ To have someone know everything about him, every flaw, every dark desire, and accept it all - it's a relief. He can share his burden. He's not sure if he should want to though. Chares has proven himself time and time again to be a manipulative bastard. Still, he's never shared any of Erik's secret, and not once has he ever given Erik reason to fear that he would do so either.

Does Erik trust Charles? Yes. Should he? Probably not. Erik has no control over that however. He never has when it comes to Charles, and he doubts he ever will.

* * *

><p>"Is there something on your mind, Erik?" Charles asks. He takes a step towards Erik that has Erik backing up. He feels caged, trapped between Charles' offer and his own desire.<p>

He feels like he is on the defensive as he replies, "You know there is so why are we even playing this game?"

He pauses for a moment, and then continues, his words all steel, "Didn't you already ask me this? You asked me if I was ready. I said yes. What more are you looking for, Charles?"

Charles sighs long and heavy. "I'm not playing any game, Erik. I need you to tell me what is on your mind. You're right, you did say you were ready, but now I need you to show me."

"Show you?" Erik says, his anger fading away. Now he simply feels lost. _What do you mean by that Charles?_

Either Charles doesn't hear him or Charles is choosing not to respond. _Damn you, _Erik thinks, but there's very little heat to it. Damn him.

What is Erik supposed to show him? That he wants ─ wants Charles to hold him down and take away everything Erik has tried so desperately to maintain? That he wants to be pulled away from the only thing that keeps him sane?

"Erik ─"

"I don't know how to do this," Erik cuts Charles off.

Charles nods and walks past Erik. Erik follows him into his own bedroom. Charles just stands in the doorway. Erik is too on edge to remain standing so he seats himself on the bed. He pulls some of the metal from the bed post into his hand, beginning to manipulate it just so he has something to do with his hands.

Charles leans against the door frame, the action more casual than it should be in this situation. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Erik intently. Charles can see right through him, and it's unfair that Erik has no idea what he's thinking.

After long moments of silence, Erik returns the metal to the bedpost. Charles is still staring at him in quiet contemplation. Erik may not be sure of what Charles is thinking, but he is certain of where he should start now. The silence gave him room to consider Charles' request for Erik to show him, and Erik's imagined this situation enough times. He shouldn't have felt so lost to begin with. He supposes he was panicking, and isn't that something? Charles can make him panic just as easily as Shaw, but the fear and anger he would normally feel is replaced by simple want. A want he knows how to express now.

"My fantasy," Erik starts, surprised by how choked his words sound and how dry his mouth feels. He swallows sharply, and stares into Charles with the same intensity. Charles is staring at him. It helps to steady him as he continues, "I want you to take away my power."

Charles stands up straighter, uncrossing his arms from his chest and pulling them down towards his sides. "Are you sure, Erik? Trust me on this, it will not be easy being without your powers."

Erik laughs hoarsely, a bitter edge to it when he says, "If I wanted easy, I wouldn't be here with you. If I wanted easy -" He pauses, takes a breath. "If I wanted easy, you'd already be dead."

He pauses again. He raises an eyebrow at Charles as he continues, tone condescending, "You're much too difficult for me to handle. Don't tell me with all your powers that you don't know that."

Charles laughs too, although his is far more relaxed than Erik's. "Of course I do, Erik. I think we need to make something clear. I'm not something to be handled or controlled. You made that mistake before and I hope you never make it again."

Charles' words sound like a threat, and Erik is on edge for an entirely different reason now. When Charles smiles at him magnanimously, Erik knows that it was Charles' intention.

_Manipulating me once again, Charles? You can't help yourself can you?_

Charles answers his thoughts this time. _I can. I just choose not to. Why should I hold back with you? Why should you hold back anything from me? You and me, we are one of a kind, Erik. Together, we could be something even greater._

Charles' speech cuts off abruptly, leaving Erik's mind feeling whiplashed. Erik moves to rub his head as if that would help the pain as he glares at Charles.

"Sorry about that," Charles says, grinning and fisting his hands in the pockets of his pants. "I was getting beside myself."

Charles whole form shifts so quickly that it leaves Erik feeling whiplashed yet again. He straightens fully and his grin drops from his face. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the metal collar he'd worn the first days he was here. How he got it without Erik noticing is something Erik doesn't have a chance to delve into because Charles speaks and his voice is _everywhere _when he says, "Put on the collar, Erik." He can't escape the command. The only thing Erik can do is obey.

He pulls the collar out of Charles' hands, and slowly fastens it around his neck in a circle closed by a key lock. He places the only key in Charles open hand before the metal is fully formed. When it is, Erik gasps because it's like he has lost a limb. The lack of connection to the metal around him is so physical that Erik is at a loss for words to describe it.

"Charles," he says, the name a plea.

Charles is by his side quickly. He places a calming hand on Erik's shoulder, says, "It's okay, Erik. Just give it a moment to sink in. Trust me."

"I do," Erik says with certainty.

"I told you that you would," Charles says.

Recalling that conversation helps to situate Erik. He takes one deep breath and then another and feels enough like himself to reply, "You're always so sure of yourself."

"I've never been given any reason not to be," Charles says absentmindedly. "Except when it comes to you, Erik. You always manage to surprise me."

Erik doesn't quite grin. It feels more like baring his teeth. "I suppose that's a compliment coming from a telepath such as yourself."

The smiles Charles gives him is genuine. "It most certainly is. Erik, how do you feel?"

Erik has been trying to avoid thinking too hard about that, but he can't ignore it now. He feels empty without his powers, unnerved. It is worse that he'd ever imagined it would be. He doesn't just feel out of control; he has the lost the ability to even recognize what control is.

He reaches out to touch the metal post of his bed. The feeling of the metal beneath his fingers is lacking. It is just cool and smooth, nothing like touching it with his power. It feels ordinary, and it is infuriating when he knows that it is anything but. He balls his hand into a fist, punches at the post as if that will make his powers return to him. He punches it until his knuckles crack and bleed, and then punches it some more. Charles silently watches him the entire time.

When Erik finally stops, Charles says, "Now that you're quite finished."

Erik licks at the cuts on his knuckles, the wounds stinging and his own blood tasting like salt and copper on his tongue. He finds he can't look Charles in the eyes. Something inside him is holding him back.

Charles doesn't let him get away with it though. "Look at me, Erik," he says, his words reverberating through Erik yet again.

Erik looks at him, and he can't look away.

* * *

><p>Charles pushes Erik down on the bed. Erik falls easily, but the tension in his form is obvious. He's too still, his arms flat against his sides, hands balled into fists. His gaze is focused but away from Charles to the point just beyond his head. It doesn't take a genius to see that Erik is uncomfortable.<p>

Charles wants to soothe away the nervousness with a touch of his mind against Erik's. However that would go against everything he's trying to accomplish, so he doesn't bother to tell Erik "it's okay" this time. They've moved beyond words. The only way to make Erik complacent now is through action.

Charles straddles Erik's prone form, legs pressed firmly against Erik's. Erik's eyes dart between Charles face and the positioning of their legs. He could break free if he wanted to - physically he's much stronger than Charles - and Charles knows he wants to. It's in the sharp lines of his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw.

Charles leans forward and presses a hand to Erik's shoulder. He grips him tightly and then he reaches into the deepest layer Erik's mind and pulls out a scene. It's a newer fantasy, one Charles actually hasn't seen before. Although he has been delving into Erik's mind for the past few weeks, he hasn't touched the very recesses of his thoughts. He wanted to give Erik some semblance of privacy despite his earlier ventures inside his mind. Charles may play fast and loose with his powers most of time, but Erik is important enough for him to restrain himself.

At least in that. In this, however, he has no interest in doing so.

Erik sends him back an image that is gone nearly as quickly as it comes. Charles catches and unfurls it before it has the chance to escape his mind.

_Oh,_ he thinks and bites his lip softly as he considers this new piece of information.

Erik wants pain. It's not surprising; with the great amount of pain inflicted upon him for so long, at some point it had to become so integral to him that he can't live without it. Erik wants pain. The question is whether Charles wants to give it to him.

The decision is easy. Charles leans farther down, using his free hand to prop himself up so that their chests are just pressing against each others. He shifts his hips forward, riding against Erik so that his next move is easier. He presses a kiss to Erik's stiff jaw line and pulls back just enough to catch Erik's reaction - the widening of his pupils, the quick flare of his nostrils before it goes. He tastes blood, knows that the taste is not his own, and wants to taste more. He leans down again, trailing butterfly kisses along the left side of Erik's face, down past his ear, and to the vulnerable skin at the junction of his shoulder. He sucks on the skin there, leaving what he is sure will be lovely purple bruises on Erik's pale skin. The feeling is not enough though, for him or Erik, so he bites down hard enough to pierce the skin.

Erik's hips buck and he tries to pushes Charles off him. Charles increases the strength of his grip on Erik's other shoulder and pushes him down into the bed with his hips as he clenches Erik's thighs with his legs. It's not enough; Erik still shakes beneath him, his reaction the product of his building fury with himself for allowing Charles to make him almost powerless and with Charles for not stopping him and attempting to hold him down now.

Charles sighs, licks at the broken skin, and says, "No, Erik."

Erik's movements stop so suddenly that Charles has to crush the sheets in his hand to keep from falling forward and crushing Erik with the fullness of his weight. He composes himself quickly and then returns to his task of undoing Erik.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Charles says into Erik's skin.

Erik moves slightly but he doesn't respond. Charles isn't going to pull the answer out of Erik's mind. That isn't how this works. He wants to, needs to hear it in order for them to move forward. He isn't going to force Erik, and he certainly isn't going to let Erik make him do so. Erik isn't in control here and Charles won't let him remain with that notion that he is any longer. Erik wears his control like a protective skin. Charles is going to strip that away from him until he is completely bare, no matter how difficult Erik makes it for him to do so.

When Erik's response doesn't seem to be forthcoming, Charles sits back up, resting on his haunches. Charles is all at once glad for his daily exercises. This position would be quite painful without them.

At this point, they've passed five minutes in silence waiting for Erik's response. Charles is patient; he can wait all night if he has to. Erik won't make him do so though. He shifts beneath Charles, uncomfortable again, and it's his impatience with himself causing the movements this time. He's not going to enter Erik's mind because not only would Erik sense it, but it would allow Erik to relax into the false sense of security that his decisions are not his own. Every decision Erik makes this evening have to be with the clarity of mind that he is knowingly making them.

It's after another long moment of Charles studying Erik that Erik finally returns his gaze to Charles' face. As if the words are being pulled out from the very pit of his insides. Erik grits his teeth and says, "Yes, _yes_."

Charles smiles - _success_- and replies, "Don't move."

Erik looks like he may protest and Charles half wants to see how far Erik is willing to push him. Erik relaxes before the thought fully settles in Charles' mind. He pushes the remnants of it aside as he trails his finger down a scar alongside Erik's navel.

"Tell me," Charles says as he traces the length of the marred skin with his finger. This is nothing like their earlier conversation. This is more about the detailed memories, the memories that make Erik the man that he is. Erik is a man built of his pains and the only way to truly fix him is to take those pains apart one by one. It is one of the things that amazes Charles about Erik. Underneath all those layers of pain, there is a pureness within him that even Charles has yet to touch. Shaw built Erik into a weapon, but he couldn't destroy that pureness, and that Erik was able to keep that from him, even on a subconscious level is absolutely amazing. Charles has never met anyone with that kind of a strength, a strength to match Charles' own.

_Erik is perfect,_ Charles thinks, and stills the movements of his hands.

"You were there, you know," Erik says. When Charles just stares at him, he clarifies, "You found me afterwards."

"Ah," Charles says. That moment was a turning point in both of their lives. It's only fitting that they should start with that.

"So, what did this to you?"

_Bitch_, Charles hears in his mind so loud that it is almost like that night all over again.

"A woman, then," Charles says. He can feel a small smile forming on his face, and he does his best to suppress it to no avail.

"A mutant. Like the Wolverine, but with 10 claws instead of 6. They were sharp as knives, and not all of them were metal."

Erik pauses, looks away. When he returns his gaze, he continues, "That's what got me. I didn't think she was that strong; I underestimated her. When I ripped the metal claws right from out of her body, I thought I was done with her. I started walking away, turning back to give her one last look, and she sliced me. She was bleeding all over the floor, but she fought like she wasn't. She nearly - nearly won. I snapped her neck with one of her own claws though and somehow managed to make it out the door, but still she _nearly won_. Until you found me, that is."

Charles smiles fully as he watches the complicated emotions pass over Erik's face. He doesn't know what the looks mean, but he's sure Erik will make the meaning clear soon enough.

"I never said thank you," Erik says.

Despite himself, Charles blushes. "There's no need Erik, really." _I should be thanking you too_ "I would gladly do it all over again."

Erik doesn't blush, but the crinkling of his brow is all the reaction Charles needs.

He leans down, and licks a long stripe along the scar before moving farther up to another smaller, more circular scar. "This one."

"A simple robbery. I was 14. The guard shot me before I could get the gun out of his hands. The bullet wound was punishment, but it wasn't punishment enough. Shaw made sure of that."

Charles presses a soft, sweet kiss to that scar, and when he lifts his head, Erik is pointing at one along his abdomen.

"Shaw's punishment," Charles says.

"Shaw's punishment," Erik confirms. "Superheated plastic. It stuck to the burned skin for days. Gave me an infection. I nearly died, but the Healer, well, she does good work."

Charles looks into Erik's face. Erik is smiling not quite happily, but it is still a victory. Charles needs Erik relaxed and that smile meant he was headed in the right direction in doing so.

"And here?" Charles asks. He jabs the circle just under Erik's armpit. He doesn't press hard not yet but waits patiently for Erik's response.

"Cigarette burn," Erik says and doesn't elaborate. Charles is tempted to make him do so, and he gives into that temptation, pressing his finger into the scar until Erik does.

"I did it myself. It wasn't an accident. I wanted to see if, after everything, I could still feel pain."

"And could you?" Charles asks. Erik is panting now and without reading his mind, Charles can't be sure whether it is from pain or arousal. He can only guess that it's both.

"Yes," Erik says. Charles stares at him and he doesn't look away, not for a long time at least.

Charles takes a step back from the bed. He tugs his sweater up and over his head, followed by the shirt beneath it. It isn't until they're both removed that he realizes how hot he truly is. With his top and shoes gone, he returns to the bed. Erik watches him with a glazed expression and Charles knows that the powerlessness of his situation is getting to him. He doesn't have to look into Erik's eyes to tell that. The tent in his slacks is proof enough.

"Take them off," Charles says, his voice more commanding and in control that he feels. The headiness of both Erik's and his own arousal are starting to get to _him_ now. He tries to will his erection down but the sight of Erik doing what he's told without protest makes that impossible.

"This one," Charles says when Erik is seated on the bed again, bare legs almost pulled up to his chest. Charles indicates a small array of scars just beneath Erik's left knee. They're barely there now, having faded with age.

Erik stares at them confused for a long moment as if he can't remember how he got them. Charles knows that isn't true; Erik remembers every scare he's ever received, every injustice he's ever had to endure - even ones as small as a skinned knee.

"I feel, outside my house. I was playing in the driveway and I fell, hit the concrete hard. My - mother bandaged it for me."

He pauses and then continues, disgust colouring his tone, "I think I cried."

He touches his hand to Erik's knee, and when their skin connects, Charles draws the memory to the forefront of Erik's mind. He removes the mental barriers Erik has set up around it and makes the memory clear again.

He skips over the scenes of Erik falling and goes right to the brightest point of his memory. Erik sits on the front steps with his mother while she places a band-aid on the still bleeding cut. Erik makes a face, an expression of pain, but when his mother rubs a comforting hand over the bandaged knee, he smiles.

_"All better?" she asks, and his smile widens._

"Charles," Erik says. He sounds pained and that drags Charles away from Erik's memory into the current state of his mind.

"Erik, are you alright?"

"How did you - how did you find that?" Erik asks. There's a sheen in his eyes, and Charles never imagined he would actually see Erik cry. It's a little unnerving to see Erik finally let go of his carefully held together control.

Charles smiles warmly. "It wasn't that hard to find."

"Thank you," Erik says, wiping at a tear making its way down his cheek. "Thank you, Charles."

Charles isn't sure what to say to that so he says nothing at all. Instead of speaking, he presses Erik down into the bed. Charles tugs at the waistband of Erik's boxers. Erik takes the hint and pulls them down and off. He's still hard, but his arousal is tempered by the memory of his mother. Charles doesn't want him to forget that memory, not again, but nor does he want Erik's only focus to be that.

"Erik," he says, "What do you want?"

Erik is silent for a long time and then he says, voice barely above a whisper, "I want you to fuck me."

Erik's soft request is enough for Charles. "Okay," he says. He removes his own boxers and then moves from the bed to where he dropped his pants. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the lube that he placed in there earlier. Charles has been preparing for this moment since the first time he'd languished in Erik's fantasy of being without his powers.

Erik spreads his legs almost eagerly, and if Charles wasn't hard already, he would be then. He moves between Erik's spread legs and pushes Erik's knees up against his chest so that Erik's ass is exposed to him. He trails a finger into the cleft of his cheeks, brushing against Erik's warm hole.

Charles dips his fingers into the lube and then returns his hand to Erik's ass. He presses a finger against Erik's hole again, and this time he slide the wet finger in, slowly and carefully. Erik is tight, tighter than Charles expected. He clenches against the invading finger reflexively. Charles murmurs softly under his breath as he slides his other hand up and down Erik's thigh in a soothing motion.

Erik sighs deeply, and then relaxes, making it easy for Charles to add another finger to the finger already moving inside of him. He scissors them in and out at a slow pace at first, and then when Erik's breath starts to hitch, Charles speeds up the motion. He crooks his fingers, brushing against Erik's prostate with each thrust of his fingers.

Just as Erik begins to shudder beneath him, Charles removes his fingers and moves atop him. He lubes himself up and then rests, just pressed against Erik's ass.

"Are you sure about this, Erik?" Charles asks, just to be certain.

"Please," Erik says, begging, and Charles acquiesces, pushing inside. It's better than he ever thought it would be, the feeling of Erik's tight heat wrapped around him.

Charles can't hold himself back. He hitches Erik's legs up farther and pushes in and out of Erik's ass at a pace that leaves sweat running down his back. Erik's eyes are shut to him and Charles reaches into his mind. The rush of feeling Erik's pleasure mingled with his own is too much for Charles and he comes before he can give himself a chance to pull back.

Charles rests inside of Erik as his cock softens. By the time Charles pulls away, Erik's hand is already on his cock. Charles is on his knees between Erik's still spread legs, and he watches as Erik strokes himself in a lazy motion. He wants to feel everything Erik is feeling, see everything Erik is seeing. He slides into Erik's mind, burying himself in the intensity of seeing himself watching Erik through Erik's eyes, of feeling the ache of Erik's arousal as if it's his own.

_Faster,_ he murmurs into Erik's mind. Erik gives in easily, speeding up his movements, thrusting in and out of his fist in haphazard motions.

Charles takes control then, and simultaneously moves closer to Erik while continuing Erik's motions on his cock. With Erik's hand, he swipes at the precum leaking from the head of Erik's cock. The pleasure intensifies and Charles squeezes lightly at the base before forcing Erik's hand off of his cock. Erik resists, but gives in when Charles pushes harder.

_It's okay_, he says into Erik's mind in an attempt to soothe the rush of emotions coursing through both of them. It doesn't help at all. Charles feels like he is overloading from the sensations of both of them, so he pulls out of Erik's head enough to stop himself from coming again too soon.

He moves down between Erik's legs and replaces the hand on Erik's cock with his mouth. He spreads his tongue flat against the underside of Erik's cock and pulls back. He sucks on the head, tonguing the tip before returning his attentions to the length, mouthing as much as it as he can. Charles suppresses his gag reflex enough so that the head of Erik's cock pushes inside his throat before he pulls back again.

Charles reaches into Erik's mind again. Erik's thigh is tense underneath Charles' hand, but his mind is a swirl of pleasure that leaves Charles breathless.

_Are you close?_ he whispers in Erik's mind.

"Charles," Erik says as if the name is being dragged out of him.

Charles smiles around Erik's cock and increases the speed of his movements. It doesn't take long for Erik to groan and spill in Charles' mouth. Charles swallows it all and when Erik is fully soft, he pulls away.

He stands up from the bed and heads to the bathroom. By the time he gets back with a wet towel to clean them both, Erik has already rolled over on the bed. Charles watches as the rise and fall of Erik's chest steadies out as he falls asleep before he joins him and goes to sleep as well.

That night is the first time they share a bed.

The next day is spent in silence, but it is the most comfortable one Erik and Charles have ever shared.


	14. XIIII

**Notes: **Sorry for the super long delay. Hopefully, I'll be able to focus on and finish this fic next month. I just wanted to post what I have written so you know that I'm still interested in finishing this fic. Unbeta'ed so any and all mistakes are my own.

* * *

><p>The night after the Hunter leaves, Alex gets a phone call from Scott. It's late, he's at his apartment, dressing to go downtown to look over the shipments coming in during the next two days when his phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. At first, he thinks it's Armando, calling to check up on him. He groans when the name that shows up on his phone is Scott, not Armando, and thinks about not picking up. Scott's stubborn though, and Alex isn't in the mood for his passive aggressive voicemails.<p>

"Hello," he says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. It isn't much.

"Alex, hey," Scott says. His voice is weird, and that makes Alex put down the belt he was trying to put on and actually grasp the phone in his hand.

"We never talk," Scott says and Alex nearly drops the phone in surprise.

"We _never _talk," Alex parrots. "Why, do you..._want_ to?"

A long silence ensues and then Scott says, "I'm sorry."

Alex can barely wrap his head around this conversation. It's so out of the blue, so..so _strange_. He can't even think of a response to Scott's apology. Alex doesn't even know what he's apologizing for.

Scott clears that up for him at least, says, "I can be an asshole sometimes, I know, but it's not because I don't care about you, because I do."

"Are you okay?" Alex asks.

Scott's voice changes into his normal patronizing tone as he replies, "I'm perfectly fine. Why can't you accept an apology when you hear one?"

_Because it's coming from you, _Alex thinks. He doesn't say anything aloud though; he doesn't trust himself to speak.

Scott sighs and Alex can almost see his expression of impatience. It's so long suffering and it makes Alex annoyed until Scott says, "What I'm trying to say Alex is that I love you and we should have a conversation one day where we're not at each other's throats, where I'm not being a _dick_, and you're not being angry. Can we do that?"

"Sure," Alex says, because he just wants to be done with this conversation now. It isn't one he's ever had with Scott and he doesn't know how to react. He feels out of sorts, lost in feelings that he can't get a handle on.

"I'm proud of you," is the last thing Scott says before Alex hangs up. Alex lets out a long breath and then goes back to putting on his belt. He can think about the conversation later. For now, at least, he doesn't have to think at all.

* * *

><p>Alex is walking into the office when Armando grabs him around the arm and says, "Are you alright? Because you - are you alright?"<p>

Alex frowns at him and pulls away. Armando is looking at him with wild eyes and Alex is a little freaked. "I'm totally fine. Are _you_?"

Armando shakes his head and looks at Alex like he doesn't believe him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, dude, I'm sure. Really." Alex says. "Are you coming in or are you going to stand out here acting weird?"

Armando folds his arms across his chest. "I'm not - yeah, I'm coming in. I have to balance the accounts today."

"Oh, good," Alex says, "There was a large transaction the other day and I was afraid I'd have to make it look good myself."

"Yeah, don't worry, I wouldn't leave you to do _that_," Armando says sarcastically, and it's as if nothing weird happened at all.

* * *

><p>Hank shows up at the office the morning that Erik returns to work. Charles sees him waiting outside and he indicates for Erik to go on without him. Erik frowns and stares Hank down, but after a moment, he enters the building. Charles sighs after he's gone. He expected Hank to show up some time, but today he just doesn't feel much like giving explanations.<p>

"Hank," Charles says.

"It's been weeks," Hank cuts in before Charles can say anything more. "What is going on, Charles? You send me these updates through Raven but well,_it's been weeks._"

"It's usually weeks between us seeing each other when you're working on a major project, Hank."

Usually, he can easily distract Hank by focusing on his latest work, but this time Hank just gives him an impatient look. Charles sighs. He would much rather discuss Hank's discovery. Forcing Hank to change his focus to that though is more of an effort than Charles is willing to exert. Besides, he would have to tell Hank eventually.

"I've found someone, found _him_ again," Charles says. The realization is quick to dawn on Hank's face.

"You've found Erik? That makes sense - why you haven't been at work for the past month. Have you - you've found more mutants too, haven't you? Of course you have, how could you have found the mutation suppressant without the help of more mutants...This is amazing, and it brings me back to the main reason I came here."

He takes a moment to breathe, and then says, "I think, I'm _certain_, I can build a machine to amplify our powers. Using the collar you gave me, I can reverse the process that hampers your mutation, and turn it outwards. Your power is the easiest to test it on. I can do this, I just need a place to build it in and money to get all the material I need."

Charles grins, just as excited as Hank, and says, "I can get you everything you need."

He does a quick scan of Hank's mind and frowns. "You tried wearing it," Charles states.

Hank cringes and looks away in shame. "I thought it would help with the -" he points down at his feet, "with the physical manifestation of my powers, and it did. However it also took away everything else too. _Everything_."

His words are said with an anger that Charles knows has long been a part of him. Charles has never had any interest in helping him overcome that. With only three of them, Hank, Raven, and Charles, hiding their powers was key. Who was he to tell Hank to accept his mutation while simultaneously telling him to hide it?

Here and now though in Erik's mutant occupied offices, protected from both humans and Shaw...

"Hank," he says, "It's time we had a long overdue conversation," and leads Hank inside.

* * *

><p>Charles enters Armando, Alex, and Sean's office for the first time since the wiping of Alex's memory. Armando gives him a suspicious look, but otherwise gives no sign of his distrust of Charles.<p>

"Good morning," Armando says and nothing more. Armando looks to Alex then who is distracted by something on his desk and stares at him for a long time.

Charles frowns inwardly. Dealing with Armando is going to be much harder now. There's no hope in winning him over anymore - after Alex. Armando may respect him, but liking him, Charles is almost certain that will never happen.

_He cares too much_, Charles thinks, but then the same could be said for himself. Every time Emma entered, _enters_ Erik's mind - Charles wishes he could kill her over and over again for each attempt at manipulation, especially the successful ones. Charles respects her, but he also wants her dead. Charles is sure that is how Armando feels about him.

He frowns again, looking between Alex, who has finally noticed him, and Armando, who's still staring at Alex intently. This isn't how he wanted to go about this at all.

_But what works, works, right?_ The ends justify the means, and Charles is a staunch believer in that.

"Hey, Charles," Alex says, "Sean's in the other room if you're looking for him."

Charles wasn't but he still has work to do with him so he moves through the room into the adjoining one.

"Hello, Sean," he says to Sean's turned back.

To Sean's immense credit, he doesn't startle at all. He turns around slowly, and says, "Good morning," sounding more excited than the hour calls for.

Charles smiles and says, "We'll be training again today. I'll meet you in the basement at 2?"

Sean nods and says, "Sure."

"Have you seen Raven?" he asks.

"No, why?" Sean says.

"I just wanted to say 'Good morning,'" Charles says. He sighs inwardly. The Azazel situation can wait. So far he hasn't revealed anything about Raven to Shaw. If Azazel truly feels the way about Raven that Charles ascertained from his quick scan of his mind, then Raven should be quite safe. But if Shaw does know...well, that can also be dealt with later.

He exits the room then and goes to find Erik again. He wants to ask him about providing the capital and building materials for Hank's machine, tentatively named _Cerebro_. Charles likes the sound of that. The name would be rather fitting.

"I want his fucking head," Erik is saying when Charles enters his office. Charles cringes but refrains from commenting. He can't hear the rest of the conversation and thus, he can't say whether Erik's anger is justifiable or not.

Erik hangs up the phone, and as soon as it's out of his hands and floating to its position on the desk, Erik slams his fist down. Charles decides it's time to comment then.

"Erik -"

"What?" Erik says, his voice laced with a thread of anger that doesn't seem to be abating anytime soon.

"What happened?" Charles asks. He keeps his voice calm, soothing.

Erik seems to react to Charles' tone. His shoulders relax and he leans back in his chair. The phone on the table starts to vibrate again, but Erik ignores it, meeting Charles' gaze instead.

"This _man_ screwed up one of my transactions. Humans are such fallible creatures."

Ah, and now they've reached the heart of the matter. Erik isn't angry with the man so much as he is angry with all humans. Charles leans forward in his chair, and asks, "Are they now? And what of mutants like us?"

"Mutants are better than humans," Erik says.

"Is that so?" Charles replies. It isn't that he disagrees - mutants are the next stage of evolution, a step forward beyond humans. Charles is more curious as to the source of Erik's hatred. As much as Charles thinks he knows everything about Erik, sometimes he can't pull together the memories and fragments of thoughts enough to form an idea of what Erik might be thinking or why. There's still so much about Erik that Charles can't tell from simply reading his mind - if only he could read Erik's very soul, then he would truly know him. As it is though, Charles is perfectly content with having to learn Erik. If there's always something more to know, Charles won't get bored; he has spent enough of his life that way. He doesn't wish to go back to feeling that empty ever again.

"I feel like you're being condescending, Charles," Erik says. There's an underlying hint of danger in his tone that makes Charles smile. No matter what Erik has allowed Charles, he is still the same person that Charles fell for, a dangerous killer with a thirst for revenge. Charles wouldn't have it any other way. He doesn't want to change Erik. He just wants to improve him. Erik already knows how to take control of his pain. What Charles wants to teach him is how to take control of his happiness as well. Charles has always believed that true strength lies in the point between rage and serenity, and he is going to make Erik believe that as well.

"I'm not, I'm really not, my friend," Charles says in all seriousness.

Erik studies him for a moment, considering and then says, the danger still in his voice, "Why are you asking me this, Charles? Don't you already know?"

Charles' reaction is both parts surprised and sheepish. "It's as if you're the telepath here," Charles says, words an almost murmur. He clears his throat, looks at Erik directly and says, "Despite my earlier claims, there are still some things that take more than a simple delving into your mind for me to understand."

"Huh," Erik says. Charles can tell that Erik's mind is working over this new piece of information. Erik is silent for a long moment, and Charles is just about to ascertain his thoughts when Erik finally says, "Shaw."

Everything always leads back to him.

"Yes," Charles says, beckoning for Erik to continue.

"Shaw is a human. Everything he has ever done, _everything_ has been to undermine and enslave mutants."

Charles frowns but doesn't comment on his suspicions as to Shaw's abilities. Erik has obviously set it in his mind that Shaw can only be a human. Arguing with him would be pointless.

"What about other humans, Erik? Surely they are not all like that?" he asks instead.

Erik scoffs, unfolds his hands, and leans forward behind his desk. "What do you think they would do, Charles, if we rose up and announced ourselves to the world? Do you honestly believe they would welcome us with open arms?"

"Maybe not all of them, but there will always be people who hate. We shouldn't punish all for the follies of the few," Charles replies.

"The few, Charles? I sincerely doubt that the ones that would accept us would exceed the ones that would kill us for what we are. Thinking otherwise is foolish and will only get you killed."

Erik is seething now. Charles opens his mouth to continue his argument, but thinks better of it when he sees the way Erik is gripping the edge of the desk, his knuckles white from the tightness of his grip. Charles isn't sure why he was arguing this with Erik. All things considered, Charles agrees wholeheartedly with Erik's assessment of humankind. They kill, torture, maim _anything_ they would consider a threat, why should he and Erik and anyone like them be treated any differently? Of course, Charles is right that there would be people out there who would embrace them, but Erik is also right about the fact that those that hate would far outweigh them.

He supposes he is arguing because he likes to do so with Erik. There aren't many people he _can_ argue with; most people are just tiresome.

"You're right," Charles concedes. "Whatever was I thinking?"

"Now you are truly being condescending, Charles," Erik says. He releases his grip on the table and turns back to his tablet. For a moment, Charles is sure that Erik is annoyed, but then he sees the smile tugging at the corner of Erik's mouth. Charles grins.

He checks his watch and noticing the time, he says, "I promised Sean I'd train him some more today."

Erik looks back at him. There is a furrow in his brow that highlights his confusion. "What more do you have left to teach him? Your lessons have definitely improved him for the better, although I think you're too soft with him. He needs a firmer hand."

"As do you," Charles says cheekily. Erik blushes and then looks angry at himself for doing so. Charles puts that down as another win and continues, "There is always something more to learn. I'll be in the gymnasium if you need me."

"Okay," Erik says, and Charles can feel Erik's eyes on him as he exits the room.

* * *

><p>He finds Sean waiting for him just outside the large exercise room in the basement of the building. It's filled with exercise equipment but it's a wide open space, perfect for what Charles plans to do. He looks at Sean, who is balancing on the balls of his feet, obviously nervous. Charles thinks first to reassure him and is struck by the realization that he has truly come to care for the boy.<p>

He smiles at Sean genially and says, "Are you ready to take your lessons to the next level?" Despite the teasing tone in which Charles asks him, Charles' question is a serious one. He won't go through with this if Sean is only half-interested in doing so; down that path lies danger and more blood Charles is willing to have on his hands. He could reach into Sean's mind and convince him of his readiness, but Charles has no interest in doing that either. Like with Erik, to be the most effective, it has to be Sean's own decision. Charles waits patiently for Sean's answer.

When Sean does reply, his voice is quiet but sure. He fists his hands at his sides and says, "I'm ready."

The smile on Charles' face grows wider and he says, "Today I'm going to teach you how to fly."

* * *

><p>Charles takes Sean for private lessons that day, and it's just Alex and Armando in the office. Maybe it has to do with Armando's weird outburst this morning or his strange phone call from Scott the night before but he feels different, more in control than he ever has before.<p>

After dealing with his usual duties and the holdup on one of their shipments, he has nothing to do so he starts watching Armando. At first, he doesn't realize he is doing it, but then Armando gives him a confused look over his tablet - and Alex feels odd, brazen so he continues to stare.

After long minutes of this, Armando shifts in his seat, places his tablet carefully on his desk and just as carefully says, "Obviously you see something that has caught your interest. What is it?"

"Nothing," is Alex's first response but then he amends it to the truth, "I don't know. I think - I feel weird."

An idea comes to his mind then as if it's been sitting there all along, just waiting for him to grasp it.

"How do you do it? How do you control your power so well?"

Armando's confused expression turns curious. He leans forward in his seat and says, "What do you mean?"

He pauses, looking thoughtful. Alex is about to try and clarify but Armando cuts him off. "I guess, I just do. With me, I don't have to think about it, most of time. Sometimes, sometimes -"

Armando stands up from his desk and approaches Alex's. The thoughtful expression is still on his face, but he looks more determined now. Alex isn't sure he likes that, but what can he do when Armando is already pulling him up from his seat and leading him out the room.

"I don't think Erik will notice," Armando murmurs as he pulls Alex down the hall.

"Notice what?" Alex asks. He doesn't get a response.

They stop on the second floor in one of the empty offices. Erik fired a bunch of their men, fired being the kindest term for what Erik did to them. With Charles here, Alex almost forgot how scary Erik could be. Erik made sure that he wouldn't forget again. The cleanup was less of a pain than watching what Erik did to them.

Armando shakes him from the memory when he releases Alex's arm. Alex watches as he strolls across the room and, with superhuman strength, easily lifts the desks and turns them on their sides so they're like pillars littered around the room.

"What are you doing?" Alex asks, feeling lost.

"_You_ are going to hit them without hitting me," Armando says, standing in between two of the desks.

Alex shakes his head, all the control he felt earlier gone. "I can't do it."

"Sure you can," Armando says. The determination is still on his face. Armando's not going to back down; he's not leaving this room. Alex could but he isn't sure that Armando would let him.

"It's all about focus," Armando says, "and a belief in yourself, two things you are currently lacking."

Alex opens his mouth to disagree, but the truth of Armando's statement makes the argument dies in his throat.

"So, what? You're going to risk your life to teach me how to use my powers?"

Armando nods and says, "That's the plan, yeah."

"Well, it's a stupid plan. Besides, Erik - "

"No one asked for your input, and Erik is busy. Anyway, I doubt he would mind you learning how to control your power better."

Alex can't argue with that either. He sighs. He can already feel nervous sweat starting to build. His hand trembles as he says, "I don't want to hurt you."

"And you won't as long as you focus," Armando says. Armando has always had more faith in Alex than Alex has in himself. Alex doesn't know what he has ever done to make Armando to believe in him so readily, but at the moment he is extremely grateful for it.

"Ready?" Armando asks, settling his arms at his sides.

Alex takes some of Armando's confidence in him, uses it to build his own and steeling himself, says, "Ready."

_It's all about focus_, Armando's voice echoes in his head. Alex focuses his mind as he feels the power building inside of him. He tries to let everything go, and soon all that he sees is the desk and Armando. _Armando_. He turns his focus to the desk and aims. When his power reaches its peak, he lets it go. He closes his eyes as it leaves him and opens them to a bang and the seared remains of the desk. At first he can't see Armando and he panics, searching wildly.

His vision clears and then he sees him, still standing in the same spot. He is covered in pieces of desk, but otherwise he looks okay.

"Are you alright?" Alex asks just to be sure. He ignores the uncomfortable tremble in his voice.

Thankfully Armando does as well, and he answers, "Perfectly fine."

"I didn't hurt you," Alex says, his voice infused with wonder.

Armando shakes his head at him. He's clearly amused by Alex's tone, and Alex doesn't know why. It wouldn't be the first time Alex had accidentally hurt someone with his powers. Armando knows that better than anyone else.

"Calm down," Armando says. With some difficulty, Alex does. He looks to Armando expectantly then, and as if waiting for Alex' cue, Armando says, "Now do it again.:

Alex feels the weight of his power building inside him again, sees Armando smiling at him reassuringly, and he thinks, "I can do this" as he lets it all go.

* * *

><p>The next couple of days, whenever Armando and Alex have free time, they spend it practicing. After a day, they move from the empty office to one of their empty warehouses by the water; the clean up at the office was way too much to handle even together, and hiring the cleaning crew would just arouse Erik's suspicions which Alex didn't want <em>at all<em>.

They practice distance aiming, and Alex gets good at controlling his power, when it leaves him and where it goes when it does. It's a rush, being able to control the thing that has always controlled him, and he is happier than he's ever been during those moments when it's just him and Armando, learning his powers together.

It's the fourth day of training and he's just starting to be able to manage how much power he lets go when Armando grins at him from across the empty building. During that one second of distraction, Alex loses all his focus, and the shot goes awry, hits Armando dead on. Alex blanches. He feels like everything is happening in slow motion. He can't move fast enough and all he can think is _Armando - I killed him, I -_ but then the smoke clears and Armando is okay. Armando lowers his rock solidified arm from his head and it changes back to normal before Alex's eyes. In that moment of panic, Alex had totally forgotten about Armando's power. Alex has never felt more relieved in his life.

He sprints across the room, and when he reaches him he says, "Armando," and then nothing more because Armando's lips are on his, successfully cutting off anything else Alex might say. Alex gives in to the kiss easily and thinks, _Why haven't I done this before?_ He grabs at Armando's shirt to pull him in closer, but Armando pulls away before he can get a good grip. He feels an ache of pain at the loss of contact.

"Next time, try _not_ to hit me," Armando says, grinning at Alex.

"I - I was distracted," Alex says and to his utter embarrassment his words come out almost breathless sounding. He groans inwardly. It's so - Alex _isn't_ like that. He doesn't get breathless, not over a simple kiss - except, maybe he does. He groans aloud this time and glares at Armando. "I blame you for distracting me. It's your fault."

Armando bites his lip and Alex watches the motion, transfixed and unsure of why he can't take his eyes away. It's _just_ Armando. Armando, who he's known for years, Armando, who he sees every day, but it's like he's just noticing him for the very first time.

Armando laughs and then says, "My fault - I can see that."

He touches Alex's arm. His hand feels unbelievably warm against Alex's skin.

"We'll just need to teach you how to focus better," he says and pulls Alex in for another kiss.

* * *

><p>It's decided that Alex and Sean are to escort Hank to Charles' house upstate while Armando remains behind to assist Erik. Alex isn't exactly happy with these arrangements but arguing with Erik would be more trouble than it's worth.<p>

He pays very little attention to the reasons why for this trip, something about a mutation amplifier for telepathy? He'd zoned out when the other mutant had started talking about his project. _Big Foot,_ he's dubbed Hank after seeing his feet , was just uninteresting. Alex has never been big on hardware, or software for that matter. That's Erik's thing and apparently Big Foot's as well.

Hank and Sean hit it off really fast once they're all trapped in a car together, but Alex is used to being a bit of a bully, and Hank is just so _easy_.

The car ride is a tense one to say the least.

When they get to Charles' house though and Alex sees the ridiculous mansion that Charles and Raven lived in as children, Alex forgets all about teasing Hank. It's just so beautiful and open and Alex wishes Armando was there to see it.

He stands outside the gates, just staring for a long moment before catches himself and remembers he is supposed to be working.

"Come on," he says, beckoning to Sean and Hank who are both watching the building with interest still. "Let's do what we came here for."

It takes only a day to help set up Hank's machinery in the basement of Charles' mansion. Despite Hank's build, he's strong, _really strong_ and the lifting and moving goes by quickly.

Erik expected them to be gone for three days, and although Alex is eager to return and see Armando, he isn't that eager to get back to work. Sean isn't either so by mutual agreement, they decide to stay on for the next two days as a short break from work.

It's well-deserved and frankly after spending the day watching Hank outclass him in everything, Alex has realized that Hank isn't exactly the worst company to have. Alex respects him now, and he knows how lonely it will probably be for him when both Alex and Sean are gone. So, in a way, he's not only doing this for himself. In a small way, but a way nonetheless.

On the final day of their stay, Hank and Alex are standing outside, looking over the large field Charles calls a backyard when Sean joins them outside. He's carrying a backpack which should be the first sign of warning for Alex, but Alex is willing to give him the benefit of a doubt when Sean opens his mouth.

"I wanna show you guys something," Sean says. Alex is _this_ close to face-palming at the excitement in Sean's voice. An excited Sean can either mean something completely dumb or something completely horrifying. Usually, it's a little bit of both.

"Show us then," Alex says, words half a groan. Hank gives him a look and opens his mouth to say something. Alex silences him with another look.

"We have to get high first," Sean says.

Alex actually does face-palm then. "Sean - _no._ Not now."

Sean's face is a mask of confusion and then understanding hits him. He waves his hands around and says, "No, that's not what I meant this time. We have to get _high_ like high in the air."

Hank nods at Sean and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Then let's get high. Come on."

Hank starts walking off across the lawn and all Alex and Sean can do is follow behind him. Alex realizes their destination about halfway to it. The large satellite dish stretches into the sky, and it's so high. Alex feels a little sick looking at it, and okay, maybe he is sort of afraid of heights. It's a valid concern - falling out of the air to the ground below.

"Sean, maybe this isn't a good idea," Alex says as they reach the base of the satellite dish.

"All my ideas are good," Sean says, and _no, wrong, wrong, __**wrong **_is Alex's first response. His second is to suck it up and follow Sean and Hank up the ladder. He isn't going to wuss out, especially not in front of Sean. He'd never let Alex live it down.

They reach the top faster than Alex expects them to. He doesn't look down, doesn't - focuses his sight on Sean instead. Sean is unfolding these impossible looking wings from backpack.

"Oh, those are the wings that Charles...do they actually...wow," Hank says. Alex doesn't understand a word, but he guesses that this is something not dumb as fuck because Hank is as excited as Sean now.

Sean hooks the now unfolded wings to himself and then he jumps.

"What the fuck, Sean - Sean!" Alex yells, a for one nerve-wracking moment Alex thinks he has just watched Sean kill himself.

A delighted scream echoes beneath them, and Alex looks down to see Sean _flying._

"Holy fuck, he's flying," Alex half-shouts, and okay, he's excited now too. Envious but excited.

Sean flies around the satellite, around the mansion, and finally returns to them. When he's standing on the edge of the satellite, looking red-faced, tired, but happy, Alex says, "I wanna show you guys something too. See that tree over there?"

Alex points at a tree far below them. He's never hit anything this far away before, but Sean's success is making him feel confident.

"Take a step back," he says, and watches as Sean pulls Hank back. Sean looks scared and it hurts just a little to know that his former lack of control over his power has caused it.

He pulls the power into him, focuses on the red and Armando's encouraging face, and lets it go.

Somehow, it actually hits.

Alex is too thrilled to do anything but stare at the charred remains of the tree.

"Shit, you - when did you learn to do that?" Sean asks, surprise colouring his voice.

Alex turns around to look at him. "Armando and I have been training too."

"That's amazing, dude, really amazing," Sean says, patting him on the back. Normally Alex doesn't really appreciate being touched, but he lets Sean get away with it this time, feeling generous.

"Thanks," Alex says and truly means it.

* * *

><p>The day before Alex and Sean are set to return, Charles corners Darwin in his shared office. Darwin watches Charles with suspicious eyes as Charles makes his way towards him. Charles expected no less than that, he did, but still it's hard to decide how best to handle it. He can't tell what Darwin is thinking, can only make guesses as to the workings of his mind, and it's throwing Charles off his game.<p>

"About Alex," Charles starts. He isn't sure where he's going with that so he's glad when Darwin cuts him off.

"What you did to him was wrong," Darwin says. "Alex would've kept your secret. You didn't need to erase his memory."

Charles shakes his head and says, "It isn't him that I distrust."

Darwin seems perplexed at that. Frown lines etch across his face as he studies Charles.

"Why then?" Darwin asks.

"Because outside these walls, there is nothing to protect his mind from Shaw if he so chose to send Emma Frost to enter them. And I would do anything to keep him in the dark about my powers and to keep Raven relatively safe. It isn't anything against Alex; it's just a matter of having no other option."

"Oh," Darwin says. He regards Charles silently. Charles knows that it will take time for Darwin to accept this. He starts to exit but before he does, he says, "You're doing a excellent job with Alex. It's better than I could have done. It takes a much deeper bond than the one I have with him to get him past the things that were holding him back. He trusts you more than he's ever trusted anyone."

Darwin continues to just stare at Charles, but by the flicker in his expression Charles knows that his words have taken effect. Charles smiles, proud of himself, and leaves Darwin to his thoughts.

* * *

><p>It's mid week and Sean and Alex have returned from their trip upstate with Hank McCoy. Erik is looking for some of his documents when he enters one of the lounges to see Sean and Raven sitting on one of the couches. He doesn't make a sound as he watches Raven and Sean talk. Their heads are bent together, their foreheads almost touching as the speak in quiet voices. Erik twitches and wants to break them apart. Sean has spent enough time away from his job during his hours working with Charles. Charles is one thing though, Raven is another entirely.<p>

"What are you doing?" Erik asks, finally announcing his presence. Raven and Sean pull apart quickly and sit up on the couch.

"Security," Sean blurts out without the usual fear infused in his voice. Either Erik's absence has made him more confident or Charles has been teaching him more than just how to use his powers. It doesn't matter why it has happened; the loss of control is just aggravating.

"Security?" Erik says with barely constrained annoyance.

"I'm working on managing the security at your other buildings now that this one is safe from the likes of me," Raven says. Her tone is cheeky and her smirk is as suppressed as Erik's annoyance.

"I'm helping her account for the multiple breaches in security over the past year and letting her know about some areas that might need looking into, yeah," Sean adds by way of explanation. It makes sense that Raven would use Sean; it is just more efficient than testing everything out herself. Erik may understand, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to crush their new-found camaraderie. Sean is young, easily distracted by a pretty face, and he definitely does not need any other distractions. Erik may run his business like a tyrant, but he does care about his right-hand men. He doesn't want to see Sean get hurt because he can't keep his head.

"Do that later," Erik says. "Have the Andersons gotten back to us about their loan?"

Sean shakes his head negatively. "Not yet."

"I'll go check on that," he continues, predicting Erik's next words. He stands up from the couch and makes his way towards the door. He only looks back at Raven once before he goes. The look he gives her is one of sympathy. Unbidden, a grin spreads across Erik's face when he sees it. Apparently he hasn't fully lost his grip of terror.

When Sean is gone, Raven stands up as well and approaches Erik. A few feet away from him, just out of his reach, she stops and says, "Did you want something?"

"You know," Erik starts. He's feeling particularly open today. "I truly was going to kill you. I was going to make it slow and painful, the perfect punishment for daring to try and take what belonged to me."

Raven doesn't back down from the threat in his words. It's exactly what Erik expected.

"I was going to gut you like a pig," she says. "And Charles doesn't belong to you. He doesn't belong to _anyone_."

Her last words speaks of a lesson long since learned. It's one Erik has come to learn as well.

"No he does not," Erik agrees.

They look at each other carefully. Erik feels a mutual understanding develop between the two of them, a grudging respect. He clears his throat, and turns the conversation back to its earlier direction. "So this place is secure?"

"Like I said, it's safe from the likes of me."

Erik nods and says, "Good."

He doesn't say thank you but Raven must hear it in his tone because nods as well and says, "You're welcome."

* * *

><p>The next day, Erik gets the call that he has been waiting for the past week.<p>

"Erik, my son," Shaw's sickeningly genial voice says over the line. "How have you been?"

"Good," Erik grits out. He starts to change the shape of the pen in his hand as a way to keep his mind clear. It helps only a little, but that little is just enough.

"You don't seem too happy, and I don't know why not. Charles seems like the type of man to keep you very happy," Shaw says. Erik can't tell whether it's sarcasm or not. He doesn't even know what he wants it to be.

Erik shifts the phone to his other ear, and asks carefully, "And what type of man does Charles seem like?"

"A good one, very pure my Emma says. His mind is, in Emma's words, 'Disgustingly free of negativity. He even thinks humans and mutants can live together in harmony.'"

Erik's thoughts return to his and Charles' earlier conversation. Charles is good, _really good_. Erik is inexplicably proud.

Realizing that he hasn't said anything for too long, Erik thinks fast and says, "Charles is naive."

"Really?" Shaw says. Erik wishes he could tell what he was thinking. He'd have Charles find out for him, if only he could get rid of Frost. _Unlikely, the bitch is always by his side._

"Yes," Erik confirms. He holds himself back with difficulty. _Humans need to be contained. Humans like you need to be killed._

Shaw sighs heavily. His tone is bright though when he speaks again. "What I really called you about is to tell you that I've set a date."

"For what?" Erik asks with suspicion.

"The meeting. Aren't you excited for this? You'll get to see all your old friends," Shaw says.

Friends, enemies, Erik isn't sure where he'd categorize Shaw's other slaves.

"What's the date, Shaw?" Erik says, cutting Shaw off before he can go any further off topic.

"So impatient - August 17**.** I expect you to be prepared for it. Stringent security measures and the like. I heard you hired a new head of security. Charles' adopted sister. She's just as lovely as him, I suspect, though I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her yet. It's no matter though, she's invited to the meeting, of course."

"Of course," Erik echoes. Shaw must suspect something. Either that, or he truly thinks Erik would hire Raven just because of her relation to Charles. It wouldn't be a total fallacy to think so.

"I'd like to hear from you a little more often, Erik. We should plan another dinner soon, just you and me. It'll be like old times," Shaw says.

"I'd love to," Erik says and makes sure to infuse his voice with enough sarcasm to make even Shaw recognize how uninterested he is in doing that.

"You don't have to be so adverse to spending time with me. I don't know what happened, Erik, we used to be so close."

His voice drops an octave and speaking with a seriousness that Erik recognizes, he says, "And now you want to kill me. That won't do, Erik."

At his words, Erik feels like a child all over again, watching his mother die at Shaw's hands. The pen he has been playing with in his hands clatters to the table in pieces sharp enough to cut. As it is, Erik slices his own palm open, the blood dripping on the table loudly. Erik loses focus for a moment, feels the red build behind his eyes, but Charles' voice is in his head then.

_Calm your mind, Erik_, he says, and his vision returns.

"Erik?" Shaw says.

"I suppose," Erik says with a calmness born of barely contained fury, "that it will have to. I have work to do."

Shaw sighs again and it is an angry sigh. "Yes. I'll be expecting an update at the end of the week. Don't be late, Erik. You're not too old to be punished."

"Yes, of course," Erik says, "Good bye, Shaw."

"Good bye, Erik. You were always my favourite, you know. I hope you remember that and remember it well."

Erik hangs up the phone after that and goes about bandaging his cut hand. When he's finished, he sits back down in his chair. He can't work, and he finds himself staring at the wall blankly. That is the way Charles finds him when he shows up in his office minutes later.

"Are you okay, Erik?"

Erik turns his gaze from the wall and stares at Charles instead. "I'm fine," he says, but they both know it's a lie.

He doesn't expect Charles to leave it at that, so he isn't surprised when Charles says, "Talk to me, Erik".

Charles sits down in the chair across from Erik. He leans forward so that his elbows are resting on Erik's desk, and then he rests his head in his folded hands, watching Erik intently.

"I want him dead," Erik says sharply. "I want to kill him. I want to see him watch me as I kill him, I want to see the look in his eyes as the life leaves them."

"And what are you going to do after you kill him?" Charles asks.

_What will I have left?_ Erik asks himself and finds he can't come up with an answer.

"I don't know. Without him - Without him, I'm nothing."

"You don't have to be," Charles says.

"How -" Erik asks, because he truly does not know what to be without him.

"There is so much more out there than you know. What are your dreams, Erik?"

Erik laughs bitterly. "I dream of death."

Charles frowns at him. "Not those dreams, Erik. The good ones."

"I don't have any," Erik says. He isn't lying. He can't remember the last time he had a good dream. He supposes he could categorize his dreams about Charles as good dreams, but he is certain that those aren't the kinds of dreams Charles is asking him about.

"You do," Charles says earnestly. "I can show you if you let me."

"Asking permission, Charles? That isn't like you," Erik says.

"I'm feeling particularly generous today. Ah, but you're changing the subject," Charles says. "Let me show you."

What Charles shows him is a world where mutants walk the streets without fear, without having to hide. He watches as one flies up into the sky, a girl - Angel Salvadore, Raven's accomplice - with pixie wings, delicate but strong. She soars above the buildings and disappears.

There are no riots in the streets. No humans up in arms. It's a perfect world, and exactly what Erik has never known he wanted until now.

"We can do it. We can do it together," Charles says with certainty.

Erik isn't so certain at all. He sighs. He's changed so much from the man that stalked Charles' every move, the man that bought Charles and practically tortured him for a supposed loss of memory. The anger comes now, but it's more controlled than it's ever been before. It's Charles fault, that, but Erik can accept that in a way that he wouldn't have been able to before.

He watches Charles and thinks that perhaps he should apologize for the man he was before. It doesn't take long for Charles to return his gaze. Erik recognizes the proud look in Charles' eyes and realizes perhaps he doesn't need to.

_Will you forever remain in my mind?_ Erik thinks without humour.

_For as long as you'll allow me to._

Erik considers this, mulls it over in his mind and doesn't bother to throw up any mental barriers as he would normally do. That action or more accurately lack of action is all he needs to realize that it might be a long time before he pushes Charles out of his mind again.

He doesn't know what worries him more - that he's comfortable with the idea or Charles' easy smile.

* * *

><p>"What's up?" Alex says when Armando enters the room at a pace that makes Alex nervous.<p>

"Turn to Channel 4," Armando says in a rush. He fixes Alex with a look that makes Alex hurry to find the remote and turn on the television.

He flips through the channels until he gets to channel 4. On the screen is an anchor, whose name Alex doesn't know, sitting behind a desk. He looks harassed, as if they just rushed him on set. He's wearing a headset, unusual for an anchor.

"This is breaking news. Massive explosions are rocking midtown Manhattan as a -"

The reporter stops mid-sentence. He frowns slightly as he presses his hand to the side of his head, trying to translate whatever is coming out over the headset. Alex and Armando stare, their eyes hooked to the screen as they wait for him to continue.

"I am going to - I'm going to take you over to Connie now, who is standing at the heart of the disaster zone," he says finally, a note of disbelief in his tone.

The screen cuts away from the news room to a scene that takes Alex aback. Buildings crumble away behind a street reporter who looks terrified of the scene behind her. There are police officers scattered all over the streets, peppered in between screaming and injured people and destroyed cars. It takes the reporter a moment to realize she is on the air, and then she finally starts to speak.

"Seemingly, it is one man causing all this destruction. We're not sure at the moment how he is managing to topple buildings with such ease and efficiency. There is also no word yet on whether this is another terrorist attack or whether military action will be taken."

Alex doesn't hear the rest because behind her the screams increase as a large man appears, smashing through the police barricade and throwing people and cars without breaking a sweat.

The last thing they see is his face before the camera cuts off.

"Cain," Armando and Alex say simultaneously.

Alex runs his hands through his hair. He's thoroughly freaked out now. How had they not known Cain was a mutant capable of such destruction? They'd done their research and done it well - on Charles. They hadn't really looked at Cain past his relationship with Charles. Maybe they should have.

Everything was all so fucked.

He looked at Armando's frowning face. They'd have to tell Erik, should've told him already, but Alex is sure that Armando is feeling the same kind of stuck feeling that Alex is feeling. He can see it in the stiff lines of Armando's shoulders.

He stands up and walks over to him. He places his hands on Armando's shoulders and rubs until they relax. Armando stares at him the entire time, a considering look on his face.

"Thanks," Armando says when he finishes and pulls his hands back to his sides.

The "You're welcome" sticks in his throat. He should be the one thanking Armando for all he's done for him instead. Alex isn't good with words or feelings though, so he just stands there, growing more uncomfortable under Armando's gaze every passing moment.

Finally, something inside him breaks, and he leans forward until his lips brush Armando's. The kiss he gives him can barely be considered one, but Alex hasn't done this in a while and he's never been so close to fucking something up so badly with one action in all of his life.

He steps back afterwards, putting distance between him and Armando.

"Sorry," he mumbles, unable to look Armando in the eye.

"I'd say 'Don't be', but that kiss was pathetic," Armando says. Alex looks at him, simultaneously surprised and insulted. It's one thing that he recognizes the flaws of his kissing skills, it's another to have it pointed out to him.

"I don't have time to teach you how it's done though sadly because -"

Armando waves his hand, indicating the loud police and ambulance sirens echoing through their building.

"But I will later," he ends.

Alex laughs and says, "Just my luck that I finally realize how I feel and we have to deal with more of Xavier's shit."

"Just our luck," Armando agrees. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts to write out a text, but stops before sending it.

"Erik is here. Come with me to tell him?" Armando asks. He's not quite fidgeting, but the tension is back in his form.

Alex is about to say, 'Yes, of course,' but as she walks through the door, Raven cuts in and says, "Tell who what?"

"You don't know yet?" Armando says, rubbing his forehead.

Raven looks from him to Alex, and there must be something in his expression because the smile on Raven's face drops off completely.

"Know what? What the hell is going on?"

"Cain Marko is currently destroying Manhattan is what's going on," Alex says.

Her expression hardens and she says, "Charles."

She walks out the way she came, and Alex is suddenly grateful for her timely arrival.

"Text Erik," he tells Armando. "Raven will probably get there before he gets the text but we should tell him anyway, and get started on prepping for a battle. Shaw will probably send some orders down for what to do about the situation and it'd be best for all of us if we're already ready. You get the men ready, and I'll contact Sean."

Armando's expression is surprised as he says, "Didn't know you were such a strategist."

"I learned something from you," Alex says with a grin that belies the gravity of the situation.

"I see that," Armando says with a grin to match his own.

After a moment, the grin fades from both their faces though their stolen moment of humour in the shit storm that is their current situation remains with them, lingering in the air. It feels like a promise of something more, something _better_ after all this is done with and Alex is intent on keeping that promise.

* * *

><p>Erik looks up when Raven enters the room. He would ignore her, but the smile drops off of Charles' face and Erik knows that it can't mean anything good.<p>

"Cain," Raven says.

Erik's hand tightens into a fist. However grateful he is for Cain bringing him Charles, he still wants to kill him for it. Just hearing his name -

"Where is he?"

"Here," Raven stresses. She looks wildly between Charles and Erik before she continues, "He's currently destroying midtown."

"What?" Erik says, standing up from his seat.

"But why is he _here_?" Raven repeats.

"He's coming for me," Charles says, breaking the silence.

Erik shifts his gaze from Raven to Charles. He looks unfazed by the revelation, and that's worrisome enough, but there's a slight smile in his expression, an amusement that Erik recognizes.

He's having fun.

"You don't know that," Raven says, her voice trembling only slightly.

"Oh, my dear Raven, I do," Charles says. He stares at Erik all the while as he continues, "He's coming for me because he's upset."

"Over what?" Erik asks him because the way Charles is looking at him is unnerving.

"Oh, nothing really, it's just that ─ well, I killed his father."

Raven storms over to Charles at that and grabs him by the arm. Her skin ripples, shifting from her natural state and the blonde girl she wears before her body finally settles on fully blue.

"He died of a brain aneurysm, Charles," Raven says, tugging hard at Charles arm. "A brain aneurysm."

Erik can understand the panic in her tone because he did his research. Kurt Marko died from a brain aneurysm when Charles was ten. For Charles to say he killed him ─

Erik isn't sure whether the emotion coursing through him is more akin to fear than pride.

"Yes, of course," Charles says, waving his hand as if it's of no import.

"Yes, of course, _Charles?_ What are you saying? Tell me what you're saying."

Charles expression sharpens then, and he shifts his gaze from Erik to Raven.

"I did what I had to do to protect us Raven. He knew, and he couldn't keep it secret. He was going to sell us out ─ he thought we were disgusting, and he was going to sell us to the highest bidder."

He pauses, looks to Erik again, and says, "And I couldn't allow that."

_You do understand what I'm saying right, Erik?_

He is quiet for a moment - _humans selling out mutants _- before he thinks, _Of course._

And that is when the whole building shakes, the floor falling away beneath them.


End file.
